


Behind the Mask

by ShipMaester



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Halloween As Excuse for Crackfic, Halloween Costumes, Out of Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-28 17:59:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5100275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShipMaester/pseuds/ShipMaester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stannis loses a bet to Davos and has to attend Renly's Halloween Costume Party . . . in costume.  Much as he hates it, he's an honorable man so he lives up to the bet.  There's something about wearing a mask and not being recognized that might make a man who would normally not know what to do in the presence of a beautiful woman just a little bolder.  </p><p>It's some REALLY CRACKED crackfic that will have some short chapters and have enough holes in the plot to drive a fleet of Mack Trucks through, but Happy Halloween to all Stansa shippers!</p><p>GRRM owns all . . . I play with the toys without any other intention other than to write a crackfic!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tommyginger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommyginger/gifts), [spittingfeathers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spittingfeathers/gifts), [Shortsandramblings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shortsandramblings/gifts), [Sarah_Black](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_Black/gifts), [BlueCichlid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueCichlid/gifts), [Fat Joey](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Fat+Joey), [ThatCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatCat/gifts).



King's Landing, 2015  
Stannis Baratheon

 

“Not going to happen!” Stannis railed as they sat in the King’s Landing Marina VIP lounge.  Yes, he made a bet on the outcome of their sailboat race, but did Davos honestly think he would rent a costume and actually go to a party dressed in it? 

“I’m disappointed,” Davos returned, looking the part as he could almost be said to be pouting as he took a drink of his Dornish red wine.  “I would have sworn you had too much honor to welch on a bet.” 

They had raced their sailboats twice a year for the past six years and, for each and every one of those races, Stannis and The Fury came out the winner every time over Davos and The Lady Marya . . . until today, the first time they ever bet on the outcome.  Had he, for one minute, thought he would lose, Stannis would never have set up the possibility of his having to go to Renly’s yearly Halloween Costume Party, much less go wearing a costume. 

While Stannis ground his teeth to powder, Davos continued.  “Look me in the eyes and tell me that you would not have made me go to the Public Broadcasting Fundraising Dinner Dance in your place, wear a dinner jacket, and stay for the whole thing.  Tell me you wouldn’t be simpering right now about not having to go this year!”

“I. Do. Not. Simper!” Stannis hissed, furious.  Unfortunately, he was furious at himself rather than Davos.  Stannis had actually started it this morning by claiming that Davos was fortunate they didn’t bet on these races.  Davos let it go the first time and Stannis had no idea what made him suggest they make a _friendly_ wager.  Granted, he had something far more friendly like twenty dragons and bragging rights in mind.  However, when Davos suggested that he’d go to the PB Dinner Dance as the Baratheon Enterprises representative this year since Stannis was on the hook to go in Renly’s place, Stannis jumped at the chance.  It never occurred to him that all Davos needed to beat him in one of these races was a little incentive. 

Davos took another drink of his wine while Stannis had yet to touch his lemon water.  “The dinner jacket can do for both occasions,” he said with an irritating smile.  “You get a cape and a white mask, and you go as the Phantom of the Opera.”

“Tell me how you plan to enjoy my humiliation since you will be in your neighborhood ushering the boys around for Trick or Treat?”  While Stannis would not go so far as to bet on it, or anything else ever, he was relatively certain Marya would not give Davos a kitchen pass to attend a costume party certain to have as many attractive young women as it did young men.  The thought made Stannis groan; he knew Robert, Oberyn Martell, Tyrion Lannister, and a few other older men usually showed up for some part of this party so he wouldn’t be the oldest man there.  Still, he was sure to be the most ridiculous if he couldn't find a way out of this mess.  “The party is Halloween night.  I have to take Shireen out that night just as you're taking the boys.”

“Nice try!” Davos laughed, snorting a little toward the end.  “The plan was put into play over a month ago that Shireen is going out with us as she usually does, only since it’s on a Saturday this year, she’s spending the night.”  They both sat in silence for a while, Davos sipping his wine and Stannis clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth.  “Look,” Davos said finally.  “You haven’t done anything social other than mandatory BE events and coming over to our house since the divorce.  Hell . . . you didn’t do anything social before then.  No one will expect Stannis Baratheon at this party, including Renly despite his inviting you every year.  Trust me.  If you wear a face mask, no one will know it’s you.  Talk to people.  Dance with a pretty girl.  Flirt!  Your reputation will be safe in the morning.” 

Stannis could only hope that the glare he gave his best friend in return let him know that he could linger in every street in every hell that might exist. 

“Or not,” Davos shrugged.  “Your choice whether you have a good time or not.  However, you will send me a picture taken from your phone at the party every fifteen minutes.  Eight pictures should do.”

“Eight . . . eight pictures?” Stannis felt his heart pounding in his chest.  “Eight means one and three-quarter hours.  It would be impossible for me to stay that long.”  He knew Davos meant for him to stay two hours for that would have been the absolute earliest Davos could have left the PB dinner.  There was no way he could stay for over an hour and someone not recognize him unless he dressed as Darth Vader or something else that covered him from head to toe.  What he didn’t want to admit was that he would be claustrophobic wearing something with a full head-covering. 

“Eight pictures,” Davos affirmed.  “Every fifteen minutes.  Selfies.”

“Oh no!” Stannis was drawing the line at selfies.  Phone pictures were on a cloud or a backup server as soon as you pressed the button.  He wasn’t about to have that out there somewhere.  “You will have to trust me.  There will be no pictures of me from this debacle.” 

Stannis felt sick to his stomach when Davos replied with a grin.  “I agree.”  Unless he could figure out how to get some deadly disease or hit by a lorry, Stannis saw no way out.  Then again, he had two weeks to work on it. 

Marya helped him put the modified Phantom of the Opera costume together.   A ruffled shirt was found to wear with his dinner jacket and bow tie.  She insisted a burgundy waistcoat was required to go with the period and he was grateful for the wide-brimmed fedora to cover his thinning hair.  That would have been the biggest giveaway to someone who knew him.  Stannis would not wear the half-face mask from the musical or the movie; again, thinking it revealed too much of his face.  Instead, he found a full face solid white mask and carefully cut out a u-shaped area starting just below the nose holes and exposing his mouth and chin.  He used a small rotary sander to smooth out the edges where the mask was cut and allowed him to feel better about being able to breathe.

A black cloak finished the costume and Stannis felt a little childish about insisting that Shireen not see him in the costume or know anything about where he would be going.  There was no denying she would have thoroughly enjoyed seeing her stuffy father dressed in a Halloween costume . . . just as he had enjoyed seeing her dressed up in her Princess Daenerys from the Disney collection.  The costume actually looked better than he expected and you’d have to be very familiar with his beard to know it was him.  Davos was right about one thing.  No one would be expected Stannis Baratheon at this party and no one was going to look at him and see Stannis Baratheon.  If his plan worked, he could be in there, stay for an hour and three-quarters, and leave being able to hold his head up that he didn’t renege on the only bet he remembered making or that he ever would make. 

Stannis took a taxi to the Renly’s house despite it being a ten-minute walk at best.  All three Baratheon brothers lived in similar upscale neighborhoods on the outskirts of King’s Landing.  As he had hoped, the party was already well attended so that someone new joining the throng wouldn’t be particularly noticed.  There were people out on the freshly mowed lawn now covered with lit skulls and other macabre decorations such as gigantic spiders and one fire-spewing dragon.  Stannis discretely snapped his first picture, this one of the dragon so he could show it to Shireen later, and sent it to Davos.  Less than a minute later, Davos texted back, “Having fun?”  Stannis found that those using their phones to take pictures and text were less engaged with other people so this wasn’t a bad idea.  He texted back, “Go to hells.” 

Walking around outside, Stannis noted the costumes and attempted to see who was there that he might recognize so he could steer clear.  He was able to go to the back garden without going into the house.  Unfortunately, he was one of three Phantoms.  One, already inebriated, walked up to him and told him his mask looked “fucked”.  “Not as much as someone chugging a beer in that costume,” he grunted and the kid walked off unfazed, continuing to turn up the beer bottle and drink.   Among the costumes were soldiers from any number of video games and historical eras; young women dressed in costumes with bustier corsets that shoved their breasts so high, many could set their drinks on them; septas; black body suits with glow-in-the-dark skeletons painted on them; various movie characters, playboy bunnies; four Darth Vaders; and one couple dressed as bacon and eggs. 

He heard Joffrey’s whiny voice before laid eyes on him.  Dressed as a medieval king, his nephew Joffrey looked just as much an arrogant idiot in costume as he did in street clothes.  Stannis heard him going on about why someone wasn’t there yet, and Stannis moved away until the whiny voice was drowned out by others. 

Stannis’ idle survey of the outside part of Renly’s party took up another fifteen minutes and he snapped a picture of one of the corseted ladies for Davos’ amusement and sent it to him.  The text that came back read, “Ask her to dance.”  Stannis quickly sent back, “When pigs fly.”

The moment he was waiting for came only a few minutes later.  Renly walked outside in his Captain Westeros outfit, complete with tights, and began mingling.  This allowed Stannis to go inside and not worry about running into him.  He knew Renly would have his study door locked to keep others out of the first floor room that had a door onto the balcony and overlooked the back gardens.  Fortunately, Stannis knew where he hid the key. 

In less than five minutes, Stannis was comfortably seated in the darkness of Renly’s study waiting for another ten minutes to go by before he opened the blinds on one of the Dornish doors and looked out onto the balcony and took a quick picture of whatever he saw. 

What he saw was _King_ Joffrey out in the garden screaming at a young woman, a red-haired Cinderella in a blue gown from where he stood, who was backing away from him.  Stannis snapped the picture using the zoom but didn’t send it right away.  If Renly or someone didn’t deal with this in one more minute, he was going to have to risk identification and go haul Robert’s hellspawn away from the party and be damned with the bet.  Stannis was just opening the door when Sandor Clegane, dressed as Sandor Clegane, pulled Joffrey away and Cinderella began to walk away from them as fast as her slippers would take her. 

Stannis closed the blinds and looked at the picture before he sent it.  He could see the side of the young woman’s face, but not enough to make out details.  She had a long, graceful neck and unless the twilight was playing tricks, her hair was the color of burnt copper.  Stannis sent the picture to Davos with a text, “Almost had to execute a rescue mission.”  The text he received back read, "You do have a thing for redheads.” 

 


	2. Chapter 2

King’s Landing, 2015  
Sansa Stark

“I’m sorry he’s here,” Renly pulled Sansa aside to give an apology after assuring her during the week that Joffrey wasn’t invited to his yearly party. She was sure he felt just as foolish as she did for believing a simple matter such as not receiving an invitation would actually keep Joffrey from attending. “If I ask his watchdog to remove him, my sister-in-law would have cops here breaking up the party the moment Joffrey got in the car and cried to his mommy.”

Loras Tyrell, Renly’s unofficial other half, rolled his eyes in disgust. “I can’t believe that brat is related to you!”

“Hard to believe Robert could produce something that mewling or that blond,” Renly replied to Loras, and then turned his attention back to Sansa. “Please don’t leave. Give me an hour and I’ll find some way to get rid of him. I promise.” 

Sansa looked out into the garden and saw Jeyne sitting with Edric Dayne. She would find some way to stay out of Joffrey’s path until Jeyne was ready to leave or possibly found her and said she could get a ride back to their apartment with Edric. The reason Sansa agreed to this party was to introduce the two of them. Sansa had gone to university with Edric and he seemed perfect for Jeyne. Even their choice of costumes, a medieval knight and wench from the same era, convinced Sansa that they would be a great couple. Matchmaking was her weakness and Jeyne needed a nice boyfriend after Ramsay Bolton’s psychotic behavior when they were dating. 

And now, Sansa seemed to have found her very own psycho. It seemed logical that Joffrey Baratheon and she would date when they met. Their fathers were best friends and both had only been in King’s Landing on their own for a short time. Joffrey had just returned from six years in Lannisport where he worked for his grandfather for a few years after graduating. Sansa and Jeyne moved there together after graduating from Northern University to pursue their dream of starting an interior design business. They had their first two clients only a week after they had their business license and the business was already seeing a profit after six months. Granted, a small amount of Sansa’s trust fund was invested in their venture. 

As a close family friend, Robert Baratheon was the first to hire her to redecorate his cottage on Blackwater Bay. Sansa quickly learned that Cersei Baratheon never went there and it was mostly used by Robert for trysts with other women. The Baratheons were an odd family if you could call them a family. Sansa loved Robert; his boisterous laugh and charm were infectious, and somehow it seemed easy for her to turn a blind eye to his cheating on his wife after she met Cersei. Myrcella, their daughter who was two years younger than Sansa, seemed to turn a blind eye to it as well. They had become fast friends when Robert brought her with him on her first inspection of the cottage. Her easy friendship with Myrcella and having met the younger brother, Tommen, who was a polite young boy, was the reason she eagerly accepted an invitation to dinner from their older brother when he returned to King’s Landing. Myrcella had tried to warn her, but she didn’t realize it was actually a warning and not teasing until Sansa was on their second date. 

On their first date, Sansa considered it charming when Joffrey ordered the meal. Their first kiss was nothing to write home about, or in your diary either if she had one. Still, first kisses seldom were anything but awkward and she had no trouble agreeing to the second date. The second date started with dinner as well, only this time when he ordered for her, Sansa asked if she could have a salad rather than the heavier surf and turf. She could not believe the tirade Joffrey had, both at her requesting to change the order and later, when she went with the steak and lobster, at her wasting his money by not eating as much of it as he thought she should. That night at the door, Sansa had wanted to make as hasty a retreat as possible, but Joffrey wanted to come inside and he made it known what he wanted to come inside for. It was then that she learned Joffrey had a watchdog, someone he named The Hound, who he said was to protect him although Sansa suspected he was around to keep him from getting into too much trouble. The Hound, or Sandor Clegane as she later learned, was a large, fierce man with burn scars on one side of his face. He physically pulled Joffrey away then just as he did this evening, seemingly unperturbed by the round of threats Joffrey spewed at him as he did so. If it weren’t for The Hound, Sansa would be less inclined to hope Renly would be able to remove Joffrey and that she could enjoy the last half of the party in peace. 

Renly was also an interesting character. In him, Sansa saw a similarity to the younger pictures she saw of Robert before he gained weight and aged more than he should from too much alcohol. Renly was thirty, yet most of his friends seemed to be closer to Sansa’s age. The age range at the party was from twenty to early forties, yet most of Renly’s friends were obviously the ones in their twenties. The only Baratheons in King’s Landing Sansa hadn’t met where Robert’s and Renly’s middle brother, Stannis, and his daughter. Her father spoke well of him while her mother tended to dismiss him as having no personality. Mother did concede that he was a dutiful father, tempering her praise by saying he was probably a cold one as well. It seemed that his daughter contracted a rare form of greyscale, a disease thought to be eradicated in Westeros. The story Sansa remembered was that Stannis Baratheon called in specialists from around the world and found a way to halt the progression of the disease before it threatened her life, but not before it left scaly scars on the child’s face. Mother told her he and his wife divorced and he won custody because she wanted to start plastic surgery on the child years before most reputable surgeons said it was safe to do so. Evidently, Selyse Baratheon tired of supervised visits and moved away to Lys where she gained a certain amount of notoriety as someone often featured in magazine articles about the hideous results of too much plastic surgery. Sansa had seen more than a few pictures of her with puffy lips, pulled skin, and squinty eyes.

Sansa retreated to the far corner of the patio where it was darker and Joffrey would find it more difficult to see her, although not impossible. “We can leave now if you want,” Jeyne said, having left Edric to follow her to the patio. 

“Renly thinks he can get Joffrey to leave in an hour or so. I just need to stay out of sight until then,” Sansa assured her. She could already see that Renly’s plan was to try to get Joffrey so intoxicated, he passed out. The Hound seemed to be going along with it,pouring from some bottle into Joffrey's glass just as soon as he drained it. “If he doesn’t leave, I’ll get a cab and see you later.” Smiling mischievously at her best friends, “What do you think of Edric?”

Even in the semi-darkness, Sansa could see Jeyne blushing. “I like him!”

“Good!” At least something was going right tonight. “He’s waiting on you to return. Have a great time and I’ll find you after Joffrey leaves or let you know if I go home early.” 

“I know how scary someone like Joffrey is,” Jeyne continued her protest. “You shouldn’t have to be hiding in a corner and you wouldn’t let me be alone hiding here either!”

“GO!” Sansa insisted. It was because Jeyne was all too aware of what a Joffrey was like courtesy of Ramsay Bolton that made Sansa want to see her with a nice guy like Edric. “I’m going to catch up on some texts and emails, and then I’ll join you later. Please, have a good time!” 

There was a modest amount of further protesting from Jeyne, but Sansa managed to convince her to rejoin Edric just as the dancing was starting by couples on the other end of the patio. Jeyne loved to dance as much as she. 

Leaning up against the brick wall next to a set of Dornish doors, Sansa was reading an email from one of their vendors on the resolution to a delay she could ill afford in the redesign of her current client’s kitchen. She was typing out a thank you for their finding a workable solution when she heard Joffrey screaming, “Oh Cinderella! Where are you?” 

Looking toward where she heard his voice, Sansa could see he was currently searching around the dance floor with The Hound pulling back on him. Sansa reached for the handles on the Dornish doors, but they doors were locked. While still surrounded by darkness in her corner where only a few other couples were milling nearby, she had no egress out to the garden if he saw her unless she could manage to climb over the railing despite the long, full skirt of her costume. 

“Where are you Cinderella?” came Joffrey’s shrill cry from across the patio, louder this time. 

Sansa froze. telling herself she needed to flee toward the throng of dancers and hope to find a way inside from there when the left side of the Dornish doors opened and a strong hand took her by the arm and pulled her inside into the darkness.

“Shhhh!” came a low, gravelly whisper in the dark. “You might as well hide in here. I am.” 


	3. Chapter 3

King’s Landing, 2015  
Stannis Baratheon

 

Cinderella stood stone still; probably afraid of him and with good reason.  Joffrey was the devil she knew while he was some unknown, masked stranger who just pulled her into a dark room.  Stannis backed away from her.  “You have nothing to fear.  I’m in here to get away from the party; that’s all.  I heard you outside saying you need an hour to get away from . . . someone . . . and then heard you try the door.”

The young woman’s eyes were wide.  “Thank you,” she said, her hesitation to fully trust him evident in the way she unconsciously backed up against the Dornish doors.   

Stannis considered taking his mask off.  He’d kept it on in case Renly decided to check the study, although he wasn’t sure he could get away without identifying himself.  At the minimum, he’d make Renly send away anyone who walked in with them and then reveal who he was while simultaneously threatening his income if he spoke a word about his being there to anyone.  Whomever Cinderella really was, she didn’t need to know who he is.  Stannis sat down in the leather armchair he’d vacated to let her in.  “Once your eyes are acclimated, you are free to either sit down and wait or leave by either door . . . as you choose.  All I ask is that you let me wait here another hour without telling anyone I’m here.”

His words seemed to do the trick.  Cinderella sat in the leather chair opposite him and watched while he took out his phone and typed out a text to Davos, “Picture delayed.  Rescuing Cinderella.” 

“May I ask why you’re hiding in here?” Cinderella asked tentatively.  He could barely see her, yet he could hear the caution in her voice.  It was a low voice for a female, both innocent and sultry at the same time if that were possible. 

Stannis had hoped she would be content to sit quietly and he’d wouldn’t have to attempt small talk, or that she’d possibly take him up on going out the interior door to find another place to hide.  His phone vibrated and he looked at the text from Davos, “Awaiting selfie with Ella.” 

“Bad news?” his companion asked as he was trying to think of a reply for Davos. 

He wasn’t about to tell her he was here because he’d lost a bet and now had to report in with a picture every fifteen minutes.  It was also beneath him to lie, yet he saw no reason to tell the entire truth.  “A friend is asking for a picture from the party.  He wants proof I’m actually here.”

Even in the darkness, he could see her smile and noticed she was suddenly more relaxed.  “So you aren’t one for parties I take it?” 

“That would be an understatement,” Stannis returned.  To Davos, he texted, “Too dark.  Will take pic as I leave for proof.” 

Cinderella took out her phone from some pocket or location he hadn’t paid attention to while he was texting.  The illumination lit her face and Stannis realized how odd the present situation was.  There was this inordinately attractive girl sitting in the dark with him when there were fifty or sixty single men, of which two-thirds were probably straight, outside this room waiting to flatter, court, dance, wine, dine, and /or romance such a rare beauty.   Unless Renly had changed, he never invited married couples or married singles to his parties, with Robert being the one and only exception. 

His phone lit up and vibrated with a text from Davos, “Ella rescued from big bad Asshat?” Stannis hurriedly texted back, “Keeping her company while AH extracted from party.”  The fact that Renly was taking his time about it was something that he could tell Davos about later.  He didn’t mind telling Davos he spent the party he was forced to go to in Renly’s study after there was nothing Davos could do or say about it.  Doing so certainly didn’t violate any terms of the bet as he was technically _at the party_. 

“I’ll take a picture of you to send your friend if you’d like.  We could turn on the lights that long.”  Cinderella offered from her place in the darkness.  She had to raise her voice a little to be heard over the music coming from the patio. 

It was a tempting offer, if only because he would see more of her in the light.  Stannis had obviously seen enough to know how attractive she was.  Additional information from seeing her in the phone light, what he saw outside in the twilight, and from what he could make out in darkness, allowed him to surmise she was in her early twenties, tall, with porcelain skin, coppery hair, and a willowy frame.  Turning on the lights, even for a moment, might alert Renly that someone was in his study.  “That won’t be necessary . . . but, thank you.” 

There was something about this Cinderella that demanded politeness, and although Stannis was not known for being conscientiously polite, he seldom went out of his way to be rude unless provoked. 

“May I ask your name?”

Again, Stannis didn’t want to lie, nor did he want to explain why he didn’t want her to know his name or tell her and then ask her to lie about meeting him.  “Let’s go with Erik and Ella,” he suggested, hoping that if she insisted on talking, she would accept this. 

Before she could answer, his phone vibrated again.  “Try charm.”

For a second, Stannis thought Ella was somehow able to read his phone screen when he heard a light laugh.  She must have discerned the questioning look from what she saw of his mouth for he didn’t have to ask her to explain the laugh.  “From the way you frowned, your friend evidently isn’t satisfied with no picture.”

She would have no way of knowing a frown was his normal face though the scowl was probably more pronounced after reading Davos’ jest.  “If you think turning on the light will give us away as being in here, you could hold your cape up on one side to hide the light from the windows.  We could use my phone for the light and I could take your picture for your friend,” Ella offered, trying to be helpful and assuming Davos’ last comment was about sending a phone picture. 

“The picture has to have someone else in it since I could be anywhere taking a picture,” Stannis explained, hoping this would be the end of it.  It wasn’t that he minded talking to her.  To be honest, he’d like it if she’d chatter away, which was not something he was used to saying.  If he didn’t have to hold up his end of a conversation and could listen to the sultry sound of her voice, Stannis suspected he wouldn’t mind her reading a phone book.

“Well then, you could take a selfie with me in it,” Ella amended her offer from her perch in the darkness.  “Then tell your friend you are going to dance with me and won’t be taking pictures for a while.” 

Stannis was sure he opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish on land trying to get air.   His head considered the words necessary to emphatically tell her absolutely not . . . no picture and no dance . . . yet he heard the words “Why not” come out of his mouth.  _What did I just say?_     

She seemed to find nothing strange about this.  If anything, Ella was amused by it as he could see the smile on her face when she stood and waited for him to do the same.  _Am I really going to let this happen?_   “Okay . . . if you stand here,” she instructed, motioning to the front of Renly’s ornate cherry desk.  Stannis found himself going along with it and stood where she indicated.  No sooner was he in place than Ella attached herself to his right side; Stannis felt his chest tighten.  “When you’re ready, raise your cloak,” she continued, indicating his right side.  “I’ll turn on the phone’s assistance light and you snap the picture.”

“This isn’t going to work,” Stannis noted, expecting to sound irritated and realizing he sounded more dejected.  “If you stand next to me on the right and I raise the cloak on the left, I can’t use my right hand to take the picture with you in it.”

“Sure you can!” Ella affirmed after thinking about it for a few seconds.  “Put your right arm around my shoulders and we’ll both look toward the phone in your hand.”

Stannis felt like a complete mummer though he knew he’d feel like even more of one if he told her he couldn’t manage this.  If the out-of-character nature of this whole situation didn’t give him a heart attack, receipt of the resulting picture would surely give Davos one.  Taking in a sharp breath, Stannis moved his arm around her shoulders and managed not to flinch when Ella leaned close against his side and continued her orchestration of the scene.  “Tell me when you’re ready for me to turn on the light.” 

As precisely and quickly as he could, Stannis raised the cloak on one side and used his own phone light to put his thumb in position on his phone to take the picture.  “Go.”

A flash of light came on from her phone and Stannis took the picture.  Ella turned her light out and he let his cloak down and quickly moved his arm away from her shoulders in order to start the process of sending the picture to Davos, not bothering to look at it.  “Wait!” Ella said in a loud whisper.  “May I see it?” 

Stannis handed her the phone.  “Oh no . . . you can’t send that!  This looks like the Phantom is terrified of Cinderella.  We have to take another one.” 

“All it needs to do is prove I’m at the party,” Stannis insisted before actually taking a look at the picture on his phone.  She wasn’t exaggerating.  Even with the mask, he looks petrified and his body is twisted away from her like he’s ready to bolt for the door.   

“Agreed . . . if you don’t mind trying this again.”

“I insist!” she insisted, laughing.  Up close with the illumination from his phone, he could see that her eyes were a light blue, a familiar light blue he couldn’t quite place.   Whatever was familiar about them, Stannis conceded her eyes were mesmerizingly beautiful.  The more he was able to see of her, the more stunning he found her to be. 

Stannis decided if she was alright with this, he was too.  Trying to act as nonchalant as possible, he set up his phone camera and put his arm around her again, finding it much easier this time.   Raising the cloak with his other arm, he announced he was ready. 

Ella turned on her assistance light and looked up at him with her lithe body molded against him.  Stannis took a picture, but he didn’t look at the phone and it was possible he took a picture of the floor, ceiling, or any point in between as he faced her instead.  She turned off the phone light and he put his arm down, letting his cloak fall back into place.  They continued to gaze at each other.  His senses seemed more acute all of a sudden.  With one arm still around her and Ella leaning into his side, he could smell her light floral scent.  The music from outside had previously been noise in the background while he could now hear the melody and make out the words.   _And, darling, I will be loving you . . .  'til we're seventy. And, baby, my heart could still fall as hard at twenty-three._  

Not sure which came first, his putting his phone in his pants pocket and then slipping his arm down to her waist or her arms going around his neck, they turned to face each other and began slow dancing before he managed to become fully cognizant of it.  _So honey now, take me into your loving arms.  Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars._   His body was still stiff, but it was moving from side to side in rhythm while he moved his other hand to her waist.  Stannis was never more grateful for the dark as he was at this moment.  Although Davos had been joking, he was on to something.  This wouldn’t be happening without the benefit of a mask and an almost pitch black room.  _And, baby, your smile's forever in my mind and memory._  

So many thoughts were going through Stannis’ mind as he swayed with her to the music and nuzzled her hair as Ella’s head rested on his shoulder.  There were benign thoughts such as trying to remember the last time he danced and realizing he had never danced once with the woman he was married to for eight years.  There were the not-so-benign thoughts about wanting to press Ella as close to him as possible, finding all the pins that held her hair up on her head so that he could lose his fingers in the thick tresses, and exploring the body underneath her costume. 

> _So, baby, now_  
>  _Take me into your loving arms_  
>  _Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars_  
>  _Oh, darling, place your head on my beating heart_  
>  _I'm thinking out loud_

Maybe it was the mask and the blackness surrounding them.  Maybe it was the words to the song.  Maybe it was the way her fingernails scraped lightly against the nape of his neck.  Maybe it was simply the fact that for the first time in a long time, he held a beautiful woman in his arms and allowed himself to want.  More than likely, it was all of those coupled with Ella leaning her head back and looking up at him in invitation as the song came to an end.  Stannis lowered his head toward hers until he felt soft lips underneath his own. 

The kiss started as an exploration of whether he had interpreted her acceptance correctly.  When she stood up on the balls of her feet to get closer to him and opened her mouth slightly, Stannis stopped holding back.  He became the commander of this action, deepening the kiss and urging her to respond.   When Ella moaned from the back of her throat has their tongues dueled together, Stannis let his hands roam along her back to just below where the dropped waist of her costume’s skirt flared out and pressed her tighter against him.  For the moment, he didn’t care that he was hardening and it would be obvious to her.  All he cared about was exploring and tasting every micrometer of her exquisite mouth and enjoying a moment he wasn’t likely to ever get again.

It was the need for air that made Stannis finally move away from her mouth and blaze a trail of kisses along her jaw and down the long column of her neck.  He could feel her pulse racing as he lathed a particularly sensitive area on her neck and felt his manhood twitch eagerly as another moan reached his ears.  Returning to her mouth, Stannis knew the time for living this fantasy was coming to a close.  He put as much passion into the kiss as he possessed.

“Have you seen a Cinderella around anywhere?”

They both heard a male voice asking and Stannis knew it wasn’t his nephew’s grating whine.  Her friends were looking for her to tell her Joffrey was gone.  With one last touch of his lips to hers, Stannis pulled back and let her go. 

“Go out to the party with me?” she asked, looking up at him. 

Stannis felt himself smile . . . if he had actually pulled one off, it was a sad smile.  “Thank you, Ella, but no.  It’s time for me to go home.” 

“At least let me know who you are!” Ella implored, her hand going for the edge of his mask. 

He stopped her from tugging his mask upward by holding her hand against it.  “I’m certain you know the story if you haven’t read the book or seen the musical.  The Phantom fares well for a short time as the romantic lead . . . but when the mask comes off, she’s not at all pleased with what she finds.”

“That’s just a story,” she protested.  “I’d like to know who you are . . . get to know you.” 

It was far more tempting that she’d ever realize.  Stannis closed his fingers around the long, slim fingers still on his mask and brought the backs of them to his mouth for a quick kiss before releasing her hand.  “Go and enjoy the party, Cinderella.”  He tried to think of something to say about slippers or pumpkins, but nothing came.  Obviously, he’d reached his personal limit for flirtation, if that was what he was trying to do. 

Stannis wasn’t sure what he would do or say if Ella tried to insist on knowing who he was one more time before she rejoined her friends.  He watched her make up her mind and knew when she stepped back from him that Ella was going to respect his request to remain anonymous.  In that second, Stannis wondered if he would ever know whether he was glad or disappointed with her decision.  He wasn’t used to this much uncertainty and confliction. 

As she started to walk away from him, Ella ran her hand down his arm and squeezed his hand before she made her way in the darkness to the Dornish doors leading out to the patio.  From there, he could barely see her.  “Thank you, Erik,” came the soft, seductive voice in the shadows. 

“Good-bye, Cinderella.” 

Stannis watched her disappear on the other side of the door and felt a physical pain in his gut.  Looking at the time on his phone, there were fewer than ten minutes before he planned to leave.  By the time he locked the doors, returned the key, took one last picture, and made his way to the road to hail one of the cabs that would be trolling the party looking to take people home, it would be close enough. 

The picture he sent Davos was of the costumed dancers on Renly’s patio.  Stannis felt miserable as he snapped the picture of Cinderella dancing with Thor despite the fact that she wasn’t dancing as close to Thor as they had been.  After he typed a text saying “Leaving now” to go with the picture and hit Send, he looked at the selfie with Ella.  It was a perfect shot, capturing a beautiful woman and a masked man gazing at one another.  No one else would ever see this picture.

Stannis knew his decision to walk away was the right one and usually, he was satisfied with any decision he felt was right.  At the moment, he felt about as far from satisfied as a man could possibly get.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As most of you probably know from the lyrics, the song Stannis and Sansa dance to is [Ed Sheehan's Thinking Out Loud](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YQLqu-ThMOY).


	4. Chapter 4

King’s Landing, 2015  
Sansa Stark

 

Sansa tried to let it go.  Erik didn’t want to be identified; he’d made that perfectly clear.   The first thing she did to try to forget him was to try to convince herself that kiss was only a matter of atmosphere.  Later that night, she encouraged Thor, also known as Harry Hardyng, to kiss her in a darkened corner of the patio . . . right outside the door of the study she’d been in with Erik.  As kisses go, it wasn’t bad.  In fact, it might have been a little better than okay.  The problem was that it wasn’t bone melting or earth shattering like the kiss she’d had inside that study.  That might still have been acceptable if it weren’t for the fact that the merely okay kiss came from a guy who was billed by both himself and other girls she knew as a terrific kisser.  In hindsight, she couldn’t fault Harry’s technique . . . and she could tell he was employing a lot of technique.  His confidence and technique were no match for initial awkwardness followed by intense heat that left her with an aching want in its wake.

In the two weeks that followed the Halloween party, Sansa accepted two dates in an effort to convince herself that this brief romantic tryst in a dark room with a man who meant only to be kind and give her a place to hide for a while was more in her mind than an actual reality.  The first date was with Quentyn Martell.  In the first half-hour of their dinner date, she realized she’d accepted because his rather serious demeanor reminded her of Erik.  From what little she could see under the mask, which was primarily his mouth and eyes, he was not one prone to smiling.  More like he perpetually wore a frown.  Sansa found Quentyn interesting and he would make a good friend, but he didn’t compel her to want to break into his reserve the way she wanted to with her Phantom.  The goodnight kiss could be said to have been no more than pleasant. 

Quentyn would have been too shy to reach out and pull her into that study in order to offer he sanctuary.  Erik had shown a confidence and maturity she found hard to describe.  He had quickly realized his manner of grabbing her and pulling her into a dark room required assuring her he meant her no harm, after which he was content to sit with her and didn’t feel compelled to entertain her or flirt.  Sansa realized he became flustered when she suggested they take a picture together and found herself wanting to shake him up a little, deliberately leaning against him and making it so that he had to put an arm around her.  That was something she had never done before, just as she had never passionately kissed a man whose name she didn’t know and whose face she hadn’t really seen.  Despite being flustered, Erik didn’t run from her or let her totally have the upper hand.  Instead, he turned the tide on her with a kiss that curled her toes.  While she wanted desperately to know who Erik really was, Sansa also had to admit his refusal to unmask and leave their interlude as some clandestine memory was romantic and sexy even if it was making her crazy.

Her second date was deliberately with an older man to see if that had possibly been the attraction.  Despite not being able to see his face, Sansa was positive Erik was in his mid to late thirties because of his demeanor.  So when Justin Massey, who she assumed was in his early thirties, asked her out for the fifth time after running into her one morning at the coffee shop she frequented, she accepted.  While amusing, Sansa also found Massey too full of himself and his charm obsequious.  More to the point, the sloppy wet kiss at the end of their date ranked in the top two on her list of the worst kisses she’d ever regretfully experienced. 

“I’ve got Renly’s invitation list,” Myrcella Baratheon announced as she came in the door of Sansa’s and Jeyne’s apartment two weeks to the day from the Halloween party.  “Is the pizza here yet?”

Sansa often met Myrcella for coffee in the morning before Myrcella’s first class at King’s Landing University.  The questions she asked about those who attended her uncle’s party prompted the young blonde to insist she tell her what she was trying to figure out.  Myrcella offered to get a copy of the invitation list and meet to try to work it out. 

Sansa, Jeyne, and Myrcella sat around the apartment’s kitchenette table with Myrcella’s edited copy of the invitation list, a plate with a piece of pizza, and a glass of red wine for each of them.  “I’ve highlighted the name of every straight or bisexual man over thirty on the list, omitting Tyrion Lannister for obvious reasons.  I wasn’t going to omit Willas Tyrell until I asked you directly if your Phantom had a limp or whether you would have seen it if he did.” 

“He didn’t have a limp and I saw him there dressed as a Huntsman.”  Sansa and Myrcella both marked through Willas Tyrell on their copy while Jeyne took a bite of her pizza.   It left thirteen names on the list.  Sansa was too excited at the prospect of finally figuring out Erik’s real name to eat though she did manage to sip the slightly sweet Highgarden red. 

Myrcella took her first bite of pizza and studied the list.  “Since you kissed him, I’m assuming you know whether he had a beard or mustache?” 

“No beard or mustache,” Sansa relayed, impressed with Myrcella’s attempt to weed out as many as possible up front.  It was a good approach.

“That gets rid of Parmen Crane; Emmon Cuy; Petyr Baelish, thank you very much because he is uber creepy; and Oberyn Martell,” Myrcella announced and then let out a frustrated breath.  “Martell was my prime candidate for a man likely to charm you into going nuts for him in less than an hour.”

Sansa blushed furiously at hearing herself described as one who had gone nuts for a man.  Still, one couldn’t argue with the truth.  “I’ve met Oberyn a few times.  He’s too smooth to be the Phantom.  Erik would have been content to sit with me quietly or let me go elsewhere.  Oberyn absolutely has to flirt with anything that breathes and he’d have tried to make me stay.” 

“It is known,” Myrcella agreed and went back to studying the list, taking a bite of her pizza while she did so.  “We can mark my Uncle Stannis off the list too.” 

“Did he grow a beard recently?” Jeyne asked.  “I was introduced to him about a month ago at a fundraiser for the charity wing of KL General and he was clean shaven.” 

“Uncle Stannis doesn’t have a beard, at least not now,” Myrcella informed them.  “There is no way he went to Renly’s party.  He would have been escorting my cousin Shireen around their neighborhood trick or treating.  It’s the same excuse he uses every year and has become a family joke, although I personally think it’s adorable that he takes her out every year.”

It was amusing to Sansa that Myrcella referred to her youngest uncle by his first name, yet always added the title of uncle to the one only seven years older.  She’d always found it interesting that there was seven years’ difference between each Baratheon brother.  It made her wonder if it had been planned by their parents.  Sansa marked Stannis Baratheon off the list and noticed three names she could exclude.  “You can take Justin Massey off of the list too.  Erik is more of a frowner than a smiler.  Sandor Clegane was following Joffrey around; it definitely wasn’t him.  And, Dontos Hollard was outside in the garden dressed as a mummer and drinking quite heavily.”  That left five names on the list. 

Jeyne and Myrcella ate some of their pizza and all three sipped their wine.  “Tell me about him,” Myrcella requested.  “You said he was frowning.  Do you know why he was hiding?”

“He didn’t say specifically.  He was sending texts to someone and said he had to send pictures from his camera phone to prove he was there,” Sansa supplied, going over everything in her mind to see if perhaps he had told her more and she’d forgotten. 

Jeyne’s face screwed up into a concerned grimace.  “You don’t suppose he was sending pictures back to a wife, do you?”

“The only married person ever invited to Renly’s party is my father, and that’s only because he doesn’t know how to tell Papa no.”  Myrcella ran the tip of her forefinger around the rim of her wineglass, “Papa was a no-show this year as he had a dinner meeting.  I still don’t know how this person got in Renly’s study.  He was really quite upset when I asked him about it.  The key was where he always hides it and he says nothing was taken or even disturbed.”

“I’m sure he was there to avoid the party, although I don’t know why he was there in the first place or why someone insist he be there,” Sansa replied.  It had been a mystery to her that night and it was still a mystery.

Myrcella mulled this over.  “If I weren’t absolutely certain there was no way Uncle Stannis was at that party and that he’d never put on a costume . . . at the coffee shop, you said this guy danced with you and kissed you?”

“Yes.”  Sansa had only heard about Stannis Baratheon; she’d never met him.  She had no memory of anything more than a few grainy newspaper pictures where he was decidedly in the background to Robert and Renly.  Jeyne had gone to the KL General charity event in her place since she was working with a client who could only meet with her during the weekend.  “Is it possible he was there when he didn’t want to be?”

“The frowning thing fits,” Jeyne added before Mrycella could weigh in with an opinion.  “He did nothing but frown the whole time I saw him.  Even when he looked at his daughter, the frown was only . . . less of a frown.” 

Myrcella considered it and began verbally processing.  “We call it scowling.  He’s always scowling; only at differing degrees.  I’ve always thought that, with the right woman and in the right circumstances, Uncle Stannis would . . . I don’t know . . . be an intense lover.  That all that pent up repression and brooding he’s got going on would come gushing out.  Still . . . the only person who could have bullied him into being there would be Papa, and wild horses or a billion-dollar contract wouldn’t have kept Papa away from being there to see it in person.  Papa would have had Renly on high alert to add to the humiliation.  No . . . as much as he fits the bill in so many ways, frown included, it couldn’t have been him.  Although if you like the type, the two of you should meet!”

Sansa rolled her eyes.  “I’d like to re-meet the original if at all possible.  So, back to the list . . . what do we do now?  Can you think of any other way to exclude someone left on the list?”

“What can you tell me about his height and his build?”

The memory of resting her head on his shoulder came flooding back to Sansa and sent a rush through her, making her take a second before answering.  “I was wearing flats because the dress was long and I wanted to be comfortable.  I’d say he was three or four inches taller than me . . . so six or six one.  When I leaned into him . . . he was muscular.  Oberyn Martell muscular, not Sandor Clegane muscular.”

“That’s good!” Myrcella encouraged.  “Rolland Storm is body builder muscular and six-foot three-ish.  I also think he was there dressed as a fireman.  So we’re down to four.  Erren Florent could only make six feet if he were wearing seven-inch lifts.  Did you see the Phantom’s ears?”

“Ears?” Sansa repeated, furrowing her brow.  “He was wearing a hat, but yes I saw his ears.” 

“Were they huge?”

Sansa gave her a sidelong glance, “What do you consider big for ears?”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say that if you have to ask that question, it wasn’t Erren Florent,” Myrcella quipped rather ungenerously. 

“So that leaves Beric Dondarrion, Guyard Morrigen, and Bryce Caron,” Jeyne stated, reviewing her version of the list.  “Right?”

Sansa looked at the names not crossed off on her list.  “That’s what I have.  I don’t know any of them.” 

“Bryce is a good friend of Renly’s.  I can’t see him hiding at a party.  Of those three, he would be number three for being your Phantom because he’s not at all shy,” Myrcella continued to try to reason out one name as the best guess.  She took another sip of wine.  “Of these three, and since it can’t be my uncle, it has to be Beric Dondarrion.  Guyard has come to Renly’s parties for as long as he’s had them.  I can’t see him hiding during one either.  Plus, I think he’s closer to six three.  Beric is more reserved and he’s in early to mid-thirties.  If my gut would shut up about someone else, I’m sure it would tell me that, of those three, Beric is the only one who makes sense.”

The man Myrcella’s gut kept pulling towards was obviously Stannis Baratheon.  Sansa had to agree that everything she had ever heard about him pointed to his not being there, at least not in a costume.

“Besides,” Myrcella said, speaking more to her gut instinct than to them.  “It’s also way out of character to think that Uncle Stannis saw Joffrey acting up towards you and didn’t come out raging at him.  Renly, yes . . . Uncle Stannis . . . no.  Joffrey practically pees himself whenever he’s around, regardless of whether The Hound is there or not.  Joffrey knows Uncle Stannis isn’t the least bit afraid of his watchdog.  So yeah, it has to be Beric Dondarrion.” 

Jeyne asked Sansa the million dragon question.  “Now that you know, or you think you know . . . what next?”

“I have no idea,” Sansa admitted and then focused her attention on Myrcella.  “Is he . . . well . . . is he unattractive in a physical sense?  He said that, like the book or the musical, if he took off the mask, I wouldn’t like what I found.”

Myrcella busted out laughing.  “Ohhh-kay!  Third position just went to Guyard instead of Bryce.  Guyard may know the Phantom of the Opera exists, but there is no way he read the book, saw the musical or the movie, or remembered what anyone said about it.  If it’s not sports or a woman, it is absolutely of no interest to him.” 

“Come on, Myrcella!” Jeyne begged, pouring herself more wine.  “Tell us what you know about Beric Dondarrion.” 

Sansa saw right away that what she was about to hear wasn’t good.  Myrcella’s face grew somber and the eyes that met hers held more than a hint of sadness.  “I know why he wouldn’t want you to know who he was.  Beric is engaged to Allyria Dayne and he might have been hiding from Edric since she’s his aunt.  She’s probably who he was texting.  I’m . . . I’m so sorry, San!” 

Her two friends looked at her with sympathy and it took everything she had to hold back the tears already pooling in her eyes.  It was ridiculous to shed tears for a man she hadn’t even spent an hour with even if, in that small amount of time, he’d made her feel things she’d never felt before.  At least, Sansa tried to tell herself, she had some measure of how a man should make her feel.  It also taught her never to assume that because a man wasn’t married, it followed that he wasn’t in a relationship with someone else.  The most romantic night of her life must have been so horrifically embarrassing for him while she pushed him into something she shouldn’t have.

“Well,” Sansa made every effort to smile, “now we know.  Mystery solved!”  She took her first bite of the now cold pizza on her plate and washed it down with a healthy pull from her wineglass.  

They ate in silence, the other two looking as dejected as Sansa tried not to look.  “Wait!” Jeyne spoke up suddenly.  “Why would he agree to take a picture with Sansa if he was texting his fiancé and sending the pictures to her?”

Myrcella’s face brightened.  “That is a good question.  He certainly wouldn’t send it to her so if he sent her the picture of the two of you . . . “

“He didn’t send it,” Sansa cut in.  “At least not that I saw.  It seemed like he was going to send the first one and that might have been acceptable since it looked like he was trying to get away from me.  He could have made some joke about fending off a woman trying to make a pass at him or something of the like.”

“But he had his arm around you!” Jeyne insisted.  She was such a good friend, trying her best to make it somehow not be Beric Dondarrion.  For all Sansa knew, he could have meant to erase the picture and say he sent it; she would have been none the wiser.  Whatever he meant to do, Sansa now meant to put it behind her.  “I’m serious . . . the mystery is solved and it makes perfect sense now why he didn’t want me to know who he was.  Time to move on.”

Myrcella changed the subject by looking at Jeyne, “I hear you are going away for the long Thanksgiving weekend coming up.”

“I’m meeting my father at my aunt’s in White Harbor,” Jeyne replied brightly.  Myrcella would have no way of knowing that Jeyne refused to go back to Winterfell for fear Ramsay would show up.  She hadn’t seen her father since they had moved to King’s Landing and was happy he agreed to meet her in a place Jeyne felt would be safe from a possible encounter. 

Myrcella then looked across the table to Sansa.  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay at the house while your family is there?  We can make room.”

Her parents and all of her siblings except Robb were flying in mid-week and would be staying at Robert’s while Cersei, Joffrey, and Tommen were spending the holiday and the week after in Lannisport.  Myrcella confided that she believed her mother might not come back and that a divorce was imminent and that she rather hoped they did since all they did anymore was drink, bicker, and take cheap shots at each other.  Sansa would actually find herself back at Renly’s house for a big Thanksgiving dinner and since she and her parents had already accepted the invitation, there was no way out of it if she wanted to spend that day with her family.

“There’s no need.  I’m sure I’ll spend most of my time there, but I it will be easier if I come back here to sleep, shower, and change.”  She’d offered to let Arya stay with her, thinking she might like a little independence.  Arya had turned her down and it was probably for the best.  Sansa hoped they’d learn to get along someday; however, she doubted that day would come before Arya was in her twenties if it came at all. 

“Honestly, San,” Myrcella broke into her thoughts with a smirk.  “If you like men in their thirties who scowl, I’ll find some way to lock you in Renly’s study with Uncle Stannis.  Only, if he turns out to be a really good kisser, I’d rather not know.”    

Although she tried desperately to hold it back, Jeyne couldn’t help breaking out into a laugh, followed by Myrcella.  Within seconds, Sansa was laughing with them.  “Well,” she joined in the well-meant jest.  “Older, scowls, and I’d have to throw myself at him to get him to make a move.  I think I just got cured of that type, but thank you for the offer!”

“Damn shame!” Myrcella said, still laughing.  “I’d love to have to call you Auntie San!’    

The truth was she didn’t feel the least bit cured . . . not that she wanted Stannis Baratheon.  Sansa would remember Beric Dondarrion and that kiss for a very long time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went with what I'm pretty sure is the book's description of Sandor . . . which is without a beard.


	5. Chapter 5

King’s Landing, 2015  
Davos Seaworth

 

Davos made it a habit not to go into the C-Block at BE, except for the management staff meetings he was required to attend and when Stannis called him.  As the corporate Vice President for Marketing, he knew the numbers for the keypad to access the area where the offices were for the Chief Executive Officer, Chief Operations Officer, Chief Information Officer, and Chief Financial Officer or Robert, Stannis, Renly, and Andrew Estermont, respectively.  The chief officers, their personal assistants, and the corporate VPs were the only ones with access.  Stannis normally called him three or four times during the week after hours where they would normally go over business for about a half-hour and spend another half-hour talking about the kids, sailing, or whatever else they happened to find to discuss.  Robert and Renly were always gone by four o’clock and Estermont only stayed past five when corporate earnings statements were due.  Stannis, however, seldom left before seven o’clock and seldom saw his daughter in person for more than a half hour during the week, often only getting home in time to sit and listen to her read before she went to sleep.  Shireen was home schooled to both keep her away from the cruelty of children her age to someone with her greyscale scars and because Stannis started having her educated at four.  Shireen was scholastically above others her own age, but too vulnerable to skip a few grades, even in a private school.  Stannis hired Maester Pylos as her primary tutor and gave him a budget to hire temporary tutors, as required.  This gave Stannis the flexibility to insist that she be free to talk to him in a video conference every day where they sat at their laptops and ate their lunch while in a video chat.  Davos had only witnessed this once and found that Shireen would chat away about whatever she had learned that excited her while Stannis listened.  It would be a mistake to think Stannis didn’t listen intently to every word his daughter said.  Stannis listened when Shireen told him that her reading tutor told her a book she wanted to try to read was too difficult for someone as young as six.  Poor Shireen felt so guilty after Stannis had the tutor fired that she was careful to only praise her tutors from then on.  It was a very good thing that Shireen was such a sweet child for she could wield her influence over her father like a weapon.

For the past two weeks, Davos had no call from Stannis to drop by the office and they barely spoke at staff meetings.  He spoke to everyone else and they were feeling the rough side of his sandpaper tongue.  This was also the second weekend in a row Stannis hadn’t brought Shireen by the house to play with the boys.  Their friendship had obviously been strained since the Halloween party bet.  Davos expected him to hate it and he expected him to bitch about it, but he never thought he would be this resentful at being shamed into keeping to the terms of the bet and stop speaking to him altogether.  They were best friends, or at least he considered Stannis the best friend he could have who wasn’t Marya.  Stannis could hold a grudge . . . no question there . . . yet not over something this trivial.  There was something he was missing and Davos intended to find out what it was. 

It was five-thirty when he punched the numbers into the keypad and opened the large glass door to the C-Block.  As expected, everyone else except Stannis was gone and his office door was open.  “How’ve you been?” Davos asked, plopping in one of the chairs opposite Stannis’ desk. 

Stannis looked at him for all of a second before returning his focus to what he was reading.  “Busy.”   

“Care to elaborate?” Davos persisted.  He’d play this game all night if he had to.  It might include yelling given the mood Stannis looked like he was in . . . so be it. 

“Not particularly.”  Well, at least he hadn’t told him to get out of his office . . . not yet anyway. 

Davos was in no mood to placate him if he did go that far.  “Alright then.  Tell me about the Halloween party since we haven’t spoken much since then.” 

One thing was certain.  Whatever put the burr in Stannis’ saddle, it had to do with that party because his jaw clenched immediately, his eyes went to full-on glare mode, and there was a teeth grinding buzz in the air.  Davos sat back in the chair and brought the ankle of one leg up and sat it on the knee of the other leg, signaling he was in for the long haul.  While waiting for Stannis to work up to whatever explosion he was about to have, Davos tried to review what he remembered about that night.  Stannis sent a few benign pictures after he got there and they traded some bantering texts.  Then, he sent a picture with Robert’s asshat son harassing Cinderella.  Stannis sent a text with that about possibly rescuing her and then about keeping her company.  His last texts weren’t snippy and the last picture was of people dancing.  Davos didn’t think any more of it until the next morning when Stannis came to pick up Shireen and wouldn’t stay for coffee.  If Renly caught him at the party, the whole of BE would be laughing about it.  Maybe that was what had Stannis’ shorts twisted and knotted.  Perhaps he’d almost been caught and realized what the repercussions might have been.  Stannis could get freaked out as much about something that could have happened as he did at something that did happen. 

“You won the bet.  I put on a costume and went to the party.  End of story,” Stannis finally said when he unclenched his jaw enough to speak. 

“No one recognized you?”

“Were you expecting someone to recognize me?” Stannis returned, eyes blazing.  This was far worse than he thought. 

Davos honestly hadn’t expected anyone to recognize him although Maria brought up that someone might hear his voice from behind them and have their brain tell them it was Stannis.  Even then, he expected that same brain to register it as the last place they’d find him. 

“I was hoping you’d have a good time!  Maybe talk to people, flirt with a woman or something . . . “ 

That hit a nerve.  On top of the clenching and grinding, his whole body stiffened.  Just as he was getting ready to ask if he did meet someone, Stannis ground out, “And what was going to become of this flirting?  Did you think I would rip off the mask and introduce myself or did you mean me to limit myself to hapless, random flirting while in disguise and hope there were no consequences?”

Davos had to think for a minute to figure out if what he’d just said made sense.  He got the first part about ripping off the mask and introducing himself.  _No, he knew that wouldn’t happen._   So yeah, that last part about hapless flirting while in disguise.   _Oh, fuck me sideways!_    Cinderella was in the last two pictures he sent and she was a redhead.  It was Marya who noticed that Stannis would take a second look at an attractive redhead.  Stannis must have really liked this girl yet couldn’t manage to identify himself and the consequences were an awkward departure.  As his mother always said, it was best to rip the bandage off quickly.  “You met a girl, talked to her, and then _you_ were actually Cinderella who ran home before midnight telling no one who you are.  Is that what this is about?” 

The redness that went with the fiercest scowl Stannis had said that the nail head took a pounding from the hammer at dead center although his retort said part of it wasn’t correct.  “We didn’t do all that much talking.” 

_What did he mean they didn’t do all that much talking?_   Davos would bet a paycheck that Stannis couldn’t possibly have been the Marlon Brando character in Last Tango in Westeros.  At least not to the point of actually having sex with some unknown woman.  He obviously had _something_ other than a long conversation with her. 

“If you’ve decided you want to meet her, show her picture to Renly and ask him who she is.  You’re a grown man, Stannis.  You can call her and tell her you were the masked man and ask if she would like to meet for dinner or drinks.”  Once it was out, Davos knew he shouldn’t have said it.  Stannis was a grown man except when it came to women.  The reason he married Selyse was she was the only totally unattractive woman who blatantly threw herself at him making it so he didn’t have to second guess what she was doing.  In his head, an attractive woman had to be a gold-digger.  The ugly one turned out to be cold as ice with the ultimate aim of marrying enough money to pay for surgeries in an impossible attempt to go from ugly duckling to swan.  If Selyse loved anyone, it was her bizarre plastic surgeon, Dr. Melisandre Asshai.   Selyse’s move to Lys after the divorce was because that’s where the doctor moved her practice after Stannis ruined her reputation for agreeing to plastic surgery that an army of plastic surgeons testified would be dangerous for Shireen at such a young age.  There was little doubt each and every one of those surgeons wanted to be the one Stannis might select to perform the surgery when she was considered old enough.

There was no point in asking him outright what he actually did do with Cinderella, but it wouldn’t be the first time he had to drag information out of him.  Davos suspected that was just what Stannis wanted.   “If I remember correctly, you said you were staying with her while Joffrey was being removed from the party.  Where were you?”

“Renly’s study,” Stannis muttered.

Well, that made sense and Davos didn’t know why he hadn’t considered it before.  Stannis found a place to hide at the party and somehow, Cinderella ended up hiding there with him.  “How’d she get there?”

He waited for Stannis to decide how much he was going to tell.  The one thing he knew for sure was when Stannis was this aggravated, deep down, he wanted to spew.  Once Mount Stannis blew, he would begin to get over it  . . . usually.  “She was stuck outside the study door with Joffrey looking for her and nowhere else to go.” 

The resignation in Stannis’ voice said the fight was leaving him.  “So, you let her in and sat with her.  I take it the study was dark so Renly wouldn’t know you were there?”

“Yes.”

He may not fight him, but he’d make Davos work for each and every bit of information gleaned.  Stannis was in a dark room with a redhead he presumed was an attractive redhead based on what he saw in the tiny pictures he was sent.  Davos wished he’d looked at those two pictures a little closer.  “You sat with her in the dark and barely talked.  Then what?”

“She offered to take a picture to send you,” Stannis provided the next clue to the great Halloween mystery. 

Davos knew he didn’t get a picture of Stannis and she was in the distance in the last picture he received.  _Where was this mystery picture?_   “Did she take a picture?”

“No.”

Years of experience taught Davos that a one-word answer could have all sorts of meanings.  That _no_ didn’t necessarily mean no picture was taken.  The only sure thing was that Cinderella was not the one holding the camera phone.  “You took the picture instead?”

“Yes.” 

This was excruciating.  “How many pictures of her did you take while in the study?”

“Two.” 

Stannis took two pictures of her and didn’t send either one of them to him.  “What did you do after taking the pictures.”

The pause meant this was pivotal.  Stannis looked out the window rather than directly at him and the jaw was clenching again.  Davos waited and didn’t press.  Eventually, he heard the words, “We danced.”

_Don’t react._   Stannis Baratheon just informed him that he danced with a woman he didn’t know and the earth did not rise up to swallow them whole.  He’d jokingly told Stannis to dance and flirt, but while he hoped he might talk to people, including women, he never expected he’d actually dance.  How she got that to happen, Davos would love to know.  However, there was a point to be made here.  “She obviously liked you if she got you, of all people, to dance with her.  That took effort and she could have found someone much easier to get on the dance floor if that was her only objective.”

Rolling his eyes, Stannis gave him his patented _you’re an idiot_ look.  “I was a man in a mask who pulled her into a room to rescue her from Joffrey.  She was a young woman who saw it as romantic and acted accordingly.  Neither stands up to scrutiny in the light of day.” 

“You don’t know that,” Davos tried to insist although, in his heart, he had to admit Stannis had a point he would be wise to keep in mind.  Stannis would also be mentally adding that, if it did seem to stand up after they met, he had to be careful of she wasn’t another woman seeking one or two icy years of marriage to end with a sweet Baratheon-funded divorce settlement.  That last part generally kept Stannis from trying to meet women, much less get close to one.  This was the first time he appeared to be unhappy with the isolationist policy.  Davos was in the precarious position of agreeing with him, in so far as Stannis needed to be cautious about pursuing a relationship.  It didn’t necessarily follow that he couldn’t ever have a relationship if he found the right woman.  Something about this dance affected Stannis in a way he’d never seen before and it had to do with this particular woman.

“I kissed her,” Stannis blurted out while Davos was still trying to process the implications of him dancing with Cinderella and what might have made her so special.

Davos could only stare, feeling as if he’d just received the second in a well-executed one-two punch.  There were so many questions he wanted to ask in the wake of that startling revelation though he knew better.  Stannis specifically said he kissed her, not that she kissed him.  This was a man who said exactly what he meant.  Obviously, Cinderella wasn’t the only one who found their encounter romantic. 

“Go ahead.  Tell me what a fool I am,” Stannis said, looking forlorn. 

“Why this girl . . . this woman?  Was it all situation or was there something about her in particular?” 

Stannis scratched the back of his head, which was one of his nervous ticks.  “A little of both, maybe.  I don’t know.”

“Did she ask you who you were?”

“Yes,” he answered and Davos now understood this interlude with Cinderella was haunting him and ignoring Davos had just been a way to take out his anger over the whole situation.  Stannis would firmly believe taking off the mask would break the spell and ruin a memory, but it left him with no closure and a great deal of uncertainty.  Stannis did not deal well with uncertainty. 

Standing, Davos looked at his friend with genuine sympathy.  “Stannis, we are brothers from other mothers.  So when I say this, know I’m saying it as someone who wants the best for you.  Either find her and see what happens or let it go.  You decide . . . and then live with it.”

For the first time that he could remember, Davos felt he was walking out of Stannis’ office having been absolutely no help whatsoever.    

The next day, Davos was going to defy convention and go to C-Block first thing before the morning meetings started if only to check on Stannis and see if he might have decided what to do.  When he got in sight of the plate-glass window that allowed him to see into the conference table portion of the office, Davos saw Stannis pacing and Renly sitting.  Both looked worried.  Davos was just about to turn around when Stannis saw him and motioned for him to come into the office. 

“What’s wrong?” Davos asked, noting Renly’s concern and Stannis’ anger.    

“Nothing we haven’t been expecting,” Renly shrugged.  “Robert left work yesterday and went to dinner afterward.  When he got home later that evening, he found that movers had been at the house and Cersei, Joffrey, and Tommen were moved out.  She took most all of the furniture and cleared out the kitchen despite the fact that Myrcella was staying to finish university.”

Stannis was furious.  “We knew she was going to Lannisport for the holiday, taking Joffrey and Tommen with her.  We also knew it was highly probably they wouldn’t be back and would send for their clothes and personal items.  The clean out just before Robert was due to have guests was her way of giving him the finger.  Taking Myrcella’s furniture was punishment for her not going with her mother.”

Davos knew better than to ask about the bank accounts and money.  Stannis had been to this rodeo and had insisted Robert shelter his assets as tight as a married man could.  There was only as much as he meant to give her that Cersei could get her hands on and enough protected so that if Robert’s personal assets were frozen pending the divorce, he wouldn’t feel the pain.  On the positive side, the present crisis had moved Stannis from wallowing in his own angst to pounding the Baratheon brother war drums.  The Baratheon brothers barely tolerated each other outside of business until someone tried to mess with one of them, and then they closed ranks and reigned hellfire down on the encroaching enemy. 

“Robert and Myrcella can stay at my place while he gets new furniture,” Renly offered.  “If it was just Ned and Catelyn, I’d say they could stay there too, but I don’t have room for the kids.  Their oldest daughter lives in King’s Landing.  She can probably take her sister in at her apartment.  Are you able to put up the two younger boys?  One is a year or two older than Shireen and the other about thirteen.  This is all assuming Ned and Catelyn don’t just decide to get hotel rooms if any are available at this late date.” 

Before Stannis could answer, his phone rang.  It was too early for his personal assistant to be in, so he had to take it himself.  “Stannis Baratheon,” he barked gruffly.  “How are you?” his voice softened considerably and then he mouthed _Myrcella_ to Renly.  “We were coming up with a plan for where everyone could stay for the holiday and until this gets sorted.”  There was a very long pause before Stannis spoke into the phone again.  “That’s well thought out.  How long will it take? . . . That fast?  She sounds like a miracle worker . . . Are you able to handle him? . . . One of us will be there in the next hour . . . Good-bye, Myrcella.” 

Stannis let out a breath.  “Myrcella called Ned’s daughter, the one you were just talking about.  She’s an interior designer and believes she can fill the house with rental furniture and furniture used to stage homes in the next two days.  Sansa Stark is there now and they’re making a list of the furniture needed and also kitchen items.  One of us needs to watch over Robert while Myrcella goes shopping for some of what’s on this list.”  Davos could hear how impressed Stannis was with his niece in taking charge.  He also knew Stannis and Renly both strongly suspected none of Robert’s children were sired by Robert but kept their mouths shut because of Myrcella and Tommen.  Davos wondered if they would still keep this suspicion to themselves in the wake of what promised to be an ugly divorce. 

“Well,” Renly said, rising from his chair.  “I’m the one who should babysit Robert while you hold down the fort.”  He didn’t look too enthusiastic about it and Davos didn’t envy him the task.

“Make sure Myrcella is alright before you let her go,” Stannis urged as Renly made to leave.  “A sense of purpose will sustain her for only so long.  Cersei deliberately set out to antagonize her too.”  Stannis would be the last one to want to be there if Myrcella needed a shoulder to cry on despite being smart enough to know she would need it.  Yes, Renly was a far better candidate for that job. 

Renly shrugged.  “Sansa being there with her is a very good thing.  She’s a few years older than Myrcella and it gives her someone to lean on.  Sansa is also good at keeping Robert dialed back a bit.  She’ll be able to tell me how Myrcella is and I can guarantee you if she thinks Myrcella shouldn’t go, she’ll keep it from happening.” 

Davos waited for Stannis to make some remark to Renly about it being his responsibility to see to Myrcella, and was surprised when it didn’t happen.  “What can I do?” Davos asked as soon as Renly was out of the office and on his way. 

“May,” Stannis corrected and then shook it off, mumbling what was probably not the sincerest of apologies.  “I’m canceling the morning staff meeting.  Would you go by the Training Department on your way to your office and tell Massey I need to move up the demonstration of the new interactive training on the propulsion system two hours?”

“Sure thing,” Davos answered, assuming he was being dismissed. 

“I’ll call you if there’s anything else,” Stannis assured him, his mind obviously whirring with what he meant to do next.  Davos was at the door when he heard, “Thank you, Davos.”

“Yep,” he replied with a smirk since he was no longer facing him, knowing Stannis would be biting his lip bloody to keep from vocalizing that _yep_ was not a word. 

Despite his sincere offer of help, Davos was amused when he was given the task of approaching one of Stannis’ least favorite employees.  Smiley, as he called him, wasn’t in his office and Davos found him sitting on the desk of a petite brunette who was trying to be polite about getting him to stop flirting and let her start her workday. 

“Got a minute, Massey?” he asked sternly, receiving a grateful look from the brunette. 

Davos could have given him the brief message, but Smiley would have returned back to sitting on the desk and taking up where he left off.  He made Smiley follow him to his office.  “Stannis wants you to move up the demo on the new training program two hours.”

“Damn!  I don’t know if we’ll be ready in time!” Even when Massey was bitching, he still managed to smile. 

“Then I suggest you get on with it.  You know Stannis isn’t one to be thrilled hearing something came down to the wire and two hours would make that much difference.”  It was a true statement, even if he meant for it to irritate the man. 

Davos was about to walk away when he thought of something.  “Massey  . . . were you at Renly’s Halloween party?”

“Of course!” Smiley supplied proudly.  “I go every year.” 

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Davos concentrated on his objective.  “How many women did you see there dressed as Cinderella?”    

“Only one.  It’s really too quaint for most girls who want to show as much tits and ass as possible.” 

You could tell Smiley was grateful for the new costume trend.  Davos took a deep breath and hoped this worked.  “Was it Myrcella Baratheon who went as Cinderella?”  He deliberately chose someone he knew wasn’t Cinderella.

“No!  Cinderella was Sansa Stark.  Myrcella went as a zombie cheerleader.”

_Did he hear that right . . . Sansa Stark?_   Davos had to be sure.  “I saw a picture from that night on someone’s phone.  It only showed Cinderella from the side and she looked like she was blonde to me.”

“Trust me,” Smiley insisted, smiling broadly. “I’m dating Sansa and she is most definitely red on the head.  The phone that took the picture you saw must need calibrating or something.”

_Could this be more interesting?_   Sansa Stark, who was presently sitting in Robert’s house and who would also be at this big Thanksgiving dinner Stannis had unsuccessfully been trying to find a way to avoid, was his Cinderella.  Better yet, Ned Stark’s daughter was Stannis’ Cinderella.  Davos took a look at Justin Massey. 

The way you knew how big of a lie Smiley was telling was how broad his smile was.  Right now, the corners of his lips were practically touching his earlobes.  Smiley wasn’t dating Sansa Stark.  One date might have happened and she probably couldn’t get that night over with fast enough. 

Stannis could run into her at Robert’s tonight, tomorrow, or not see her until Thanksgiving.  Davos had to assume that, despite the dark, Stannis saw her well enough to be able to recognize her.  For all of one second, Davos considered warning him.  No . . . fate seemed to have things well in hand and Davos couldn’t wait to see how this all played out.  But oh how he needed to get to his office and call Marya! 


	6. Chapter 6

King’s Landing, 2015  
Stannis Baratheon

 

For the next two days, Stannis took care of Baratheon Enterprises business while Renly watched over Robert, who had at least engaged Barristan Selmy for legal counsel.  Renly kept him posted in phone calls . . . they knew better than to put anything about Cersei or Robert’s plans in an email or text.  Stannis was impressed to hear that Myrcella had completely restocked the kitchen, finding many quality items at an estate auction house, while Ned’s daughter and her business partner not only managed to fill the house with enough furniture to accommodate Robert’s guests but also put artwork on the walls, vases out on tables, and a host of other decorative touches in a matter of two days.  Renly claimed that while not the expensive furniture that had previously been in the house, Sansa Stark’s ability to stage and decorate actually made Robert’s home look more comfortable and inviting.  Stannis enjoyed knowing that Myrcella would certainly take pictures of the best and send them to Tommen, knowing he would show them to Cersei. 

Renly planned the Thanksgiving dinner when they started to suspect that Cersei was leaving for good when she departed for Lannisport for the holiday this year.  He suggested a united front by having something they hadn’t had since Renly graduated from college . . . a family dinner.  Stannis and Shireen usually spent this holiday with the Seaworths while Renly and Loras Tyrell went on vacation.  Part of the reason Renly volunteered the dinner so easily was Loras had been bullied into joining the rest of the family at his grandmother’s and Olenna Tyrell wasn’t aware of their relationship.  Somehow, this family dinner snowballed into a large event with the Starks coming from Winterfell to join them. 

For years, Stannis told himself he hated Ned Stark, thinking his lack of a relationship with Robert was somehow Ned’s fault.  Davos had brought up that they were like brothers the other day and it was true.  For as much as Robert called Ned his brother and showed Ned the affection and respect he felt he deserved, Stannis realized he did the same with Davos.  Well, he didn’t exactly show Davos affection and he wouldn’t have known how to accept the big hugs and backslaps Robert gave Ned.  The point was that Stannis began to accept that brothers often didn’t act as he thought brothers should and friends did.  This revelation allowed him to accept that Ned did absolutely nothing to him or take anything from him. 

Thanksgiving morning, Stannis had to change after a call from Renly insisting he not wear a suit.  It had been so long since he’d been sailing that he had to iron out the crease made across the legs of his khakis from being on the hanger for so long.  The only casual shirts he owned were Henleys and a dark blue v-neck cashmere jumper that had been a gift from Shireen for his nameday courtesy of a shopping excursion with Marya Seaworth.   Stannis opted for the jumper instead of a put on a white dress shirt underneath.  He usually let Shireen wear whatever she wanted to on the weekends or holidays like today when Mrs. Cressen visited her sister and family.  Inspecting her jeans and jumper decorated with some sort of kitten design, Stannis was satisfied that she had done well. 

Renly answered the door and scooped Shireen up in his arms.  “Little Pumpkin!” he greeted, using a term of endearment started by Davos Seaworth.  “How’s my best girl?” 

“Oh Uncle Renly!” his daughter giggled, putting her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.  “You say the same thing to Myrcella!” 

Renly carried Shireen inside while their version of greeting each other was a nod.  “How is he?” Stannis asked, referring to Robert. 

“Pumpkin, Rickon Stark is outside and he’s been dying to have someone to play hide and seek with,” Renly put Shireen down and gave an amused grin when the little girl looked at Stannis for permission before scampering off.  Stannis told her to be careful and then waited for Renly to continue in a muted tone.  “He’s animated and jovial with the Starks for company.  He’ll go into embarrassing tirades about Cersei being a whore or a mean bitch that Catelyn can squelch with a disapproving look. Since I agree with him, I let him rant before they got here.   I’d say he’s still irritated at her for cleaning out the furniture since she couldn’t get more access to the money and he’s not happy about not being able to say good-bye to Tommen.  Robert hasn’t mentioned Joffrey one way or the other.  I’d say he’s more than happy to see him out of the house.” 

As Renly spoke, he could hear Robert telling some story in the media room.  “Robert, Ned, Arya, and Bran are in the media room.”  Renly informed him, beginning to walk in that direction.  “Mrs. F made dishes that have to be heated or have a few things done before we eat.  Myrcella, Sansa, and Catelyn are in the kitchen seeing to that.”  The foyer looked into the lower end of Renly’s great room and he could hear female voices in a lull of Robert speaking as they turned to go into the hallway to the media room. 

Ned stood and put out a hand to shake when Stannis entered the room behind Renly.  Robert gave a somewhat friendly grunt from his chair.  “It’s good to see you, Stannis,” Ned said.  “Is Shireen with you?”

“Yes,” Stannis returned awkwardly.  “She’s gone outside to play with your youngest son.” 

Ned introduced his daughter, Arya, and son, Bran before he sat back down with Stannis taking one of the end chairs in the u-shaped arrangement around the seventy-inch LED screen where some university football game was playing.  Stannis wasn’t the avid football fan like Robert, yet he followed pro football enough to be able to speak to it when it came up in a business meeting.  The Stormsland Thunder would be playing the Dorne Sandsnakes later in the day, and he would be more interested in the outcome of that game. 

“Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes,” Stannis heard from behind him.  Since it was a female voice, he stood and as he turned around, he saw Catelyn Stark.  It had been years since he had seen her and the years had been kind.  She was a beautiful woman with . . . Stannis paused, staring at Catelyn as he realized what had been familiar about Ella’s eyes the night of the party.  They were the same Tully blue eyes of Catelyn Stark. 

“Hello Stannis,” she acknowledged from the doorway.  “Nice to see you again.” 

“Catelyn,” was all he could think to say.  Stannis sat back down as she asked Renly to carve the turkey.  He barely heard the flippant comment from Robert about what good manners he had as he tried to process Ella having Tully blue eyes.  Sansa Stark now lived in King’s Landing and she would be in her early twenties having graduated from university.  It was quite possible she had red hair, although it would be a lighter shade than Catelyn’s if she turned out to be Ella. 

Stannis was excited and petrified as he made his way with the others from the media room to the dining room.  Myrcella came to him and he awkwardly leaned down for the usual kiss on the cheek.  “Uncle Stannis, have you met Sansa?” 

He turned around and there she was . . . Ella.  Stannis jaw clenched as a defensive reaction when he saw that she was even more stunning in the light of day with her hair down and casual dress of jeans and dark green turtleneck jumper.  Sansa put out a hand to him, nearly stopping his heart with her smile as he shook it in a daze.  “It’s nice to meet you,” she said politely.

Stannis hoped his eyes weren’t displaying his panic and he heard his voice crack when he responded with, “Likewise.”  He breathed a little easier when she didn't recognize him, reminding himself he had been wearing a mask. The plan now was to get through this dinner, watch a little of the game to be polite and allow Shireen to have a good time, and then go home as soon as possible. 

Renly’s house had an open floor plan that made the dining room, kitchen, and a great room all visible.  His dining room table sat eight comfortably and he had place cards on the plates with names written out by hand.  Bran, Rickon, and Shireen were to sit at the kitchen island and Stannis briefly had sympathy for the teenaged Bran Stark who was still relegated to the children’s area. 

Instructions were given to fill your plate in the kitchen where turkey, dressing, green bean casserole, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, gravy, and rolls were laid out on the countertops and then look for your name on the place card at the dining room table.  Stannis saw to Shireen’s plate of food first and getting her seated at the island.  He was worried about her ability to get down from there and said as much.  Bran Stark offered to help her.  He saw a lot of Ned in the features and demeanor of the middle son.  The oldest, he had learned, was spending the holiday with his fiancé and her family.  A name was said, but Stannis didn’t pay attention.  From memory, he believed it to be Robb.  

He put food on his plate and although he had arrived hungry, he was no longer sure how much he could eat under the present circumstances.  Renly’s seating arrangement allowed Robert to sit at the head of the table with Catelyn at the other end as the unofficial hostess.  Stannis found his name on the place card at Catelyn’s right and Sansa Stark sat down across from him.  This was going to be agony.

As he sat down, he watched others take their places.  Renly sat on Sansa’s left with Myrcella on the other side of Renly.  The younger Stark daughter, Arya, was seated next to him with Ned on her other side, seated where he and Robert could talk through dinner. 

Comments were made about how good the food was and Stannis had to take them at their word.  Robert told a story about a Thanksgiving he spent in Winterfell with Ned, careful not to mention the woman who turned him down . . . Lyanna Stark.  Stannis remembered that Thanksgiving too as he and Renly, at eleven and four years old, spent a lonely Thanksgiving with servants.  Uncle Lomas Estermont had been so angry when he heard Robert had left them that on their own, that he insisted Stannis and Renly spend the holiday with his family, which was where he spent every Thanksgiving afterward until he was married.

“Uncle Stannis,” Myrcella spoke up during a lull.  “How long has it been since you’ve taken The Fury out sailing?”

“It's been over a year,” Stannis replied.  His return was greeted with the clanging sound of cutlery falling on a plate. 

Stannis wasn't the only one who looked at Sansa to see what caused her to drop her fork in such a noisy fashion.  He was probably the only one who understood the reason without being told.  He'd dismissed the idea of her recognizing his voice weeks after their meeting.  

“How . . . uh . . . how long is your sailboat . . . and what kind is it?” He assumed she was trying to frame a question that would force him to speak more than a yes or a no.  There was nothing Stannis could do except let her figure it out and perhaps find a way to talk to her briefly after dinner to tell her she had nothing to fear from him.  He hoped she wasn’t expecting an apology for kissing her because he wasn’t about to tell that lie. 

“It is a twenty-seven-foot cruiser.”

It was enough and Stannis found he was a little flattered that she recalled enough of his voice to make the recollection.  All he could see on Sansa’s face was wide-eyed recognition.  She didn’t look away from him, yet she gave him no clue what she thought now that she knew.  “It sounds very nice,” she replied almost in a whisper.

Just when he thought the worst had already passed, the whole interchange had called Robert's attention to her.  “So Sansa . . . what’s this I hear about you being kissed in Renly’s study by some masked man?” Stannis stopped the turkey-laden fork halfway to his mouth.  _Just how many people knew about this?_  

Evidently Ned and Catelyn knew something as Catelyn was giving her husband a censorious look that Stannis interpreted as a reprimand for his having told Robert.  In return, Ned was trying to shake his head without being too obvious.  Neither were glancing at Sansa as if questioning what this was about.  While Stannis tried to process that Sansa told one or both of her parents about it, including that he kissed her, Arya Stark jumped in to add information.  “Oh, she knows who it is now.  The guy is engaged to someone else.  It’s why he didn’t take his mask off.  Saint Sansa’s been pretty upset about kissing someone else’s fiancé.”

_What the hells?_   Stannis couldn’t help it; he stole another glance at Sansa and their eyes locked.  She bit her lip and blushed furiously. 

“How’d you find out who he is and that he’s engaged?” Robert pursued.  Stannis wanted to believe Robert had no idea how ruthless he was being to Sansa at the moment, yet he would be lying if he said he didn’t want to know the answer to that question himself.  The only thing he could think of was that she thought he had been someone else.  How awful for her!   Maybe, in some small measure, she was grateful to learn it was him after all. 

Renly cleared his throat and Stannis was silently thanking him for what he assumed was going to be an attempt to change the subject until Renly turned to him and said, “Shireen tells me you went to a costume party this Halloween, Stannis!”

“Fat chance of that!” Robert bellowed as Myrcella’s eyes join Sansa’s in studying him. 

At the kitchen island, Shireen was indignant.  “Daddy did too go to a Halloween party, Uncle Robert!”

“It’s alright, Shireen.  Your uncle is teasing.” Stannis tried to prevent her from saying any more and hated admonishing her in front of others.  “Don’t try to join the conversation at this table while we’re eating, please.” 

Renly gave him a sidelong glance.  “Seriously . . . you went to someone else’s party?”

“No,” Stannis replied quickly, hoping Renly would think he was saying no to going to a party and leave it alone.  At best, Renly might surmise he went to work and Shireen was led to believe he was at a party. 

If Renly was content to leave it alone, Myrcella wasn’t.  “No, you didn’t go to a party at all?  Or, you didn’t go to someone else’s party?”

It was either lie or let the chips fall.  He hated lying and Stannis was positive Sansa now knew he was the one in the study with her that night.  “I didn’t go to someone else’s party.” 

“You were at my party?” Renly asked incredulously, as though Stannis and party were polar opposites.  Well, that would normally be true.  

“Yes.” 

The wheels were turning so fast in his little brother’s mind, smoke would start to pour out of his ears any minute.  “In costume?” Renly continued.

“Yes,” he said, trying not to grind his teeth while he made every effort to look calm, maintaining eye contact only with the person speaking directly to him at the time. 

“As the Phantom of the Opera,” Myrcella added as a statement of fact and not a question.  The train had just wrecked for all to see.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ned and Catelyn give each other shocked looks.  “Would anyone like more sweet potatoes?” Catelyn asked, vainly trying to steer the conversation away from the present collision. 

Hazarding another glance at Sansa, she was still looking directly at him.  He wanted to tell her she had nothing more to worry about; that he had no intention of trying to pursue her despite how very much he knew he wanted to do just that.    

“Wait!  It wasn’t the engaged guy?” Arya exclaimed from where she sat next to him.  The little firebrand turned in her seat to get a better look at him.  “You’re the one who made Miss Perfect all hot and bothered?”

Stannis was trying to process the idea of Sansa being _hot and bothered_ , only vaguely aware of Ned reprimanding Arya.  The older teen was undaunted.  “So she didn’t know it was you because you were wearing a mask,” the girl noted laughing before she asked, “Did you know who she was?”

Before he could answer, not sure he meant to answer, Sansa spoke for him.  “We’d not met before today . . . well . . . not formally.” 

At the amendment about formally meeting, Robert literally barked with laughter.  Arya, Renly, and Myrcella tried to hold back but ended up laughing along with him.  Even Catelyn and Ned turned their discomfited expressions into snickers while Sansa managed a smile.  Stannis thought he must be smirking because whatever his mouth was doing, it felt unusual.  If he was actually smirking, it had more to do with the idea of her getting hot and bothered, even if he doubted those were her words.

“Well, you’ve been introduced now!” Robert bellowed, wiping watery eyes with his napkin as the laughter died down.  “But Sansa, it had to be someone else . . . Stannis making a beauty like you even slightly bothered?  I haven’t seen any pigs flying around or reports of hells freezing!”    

Directing a scowl at Robert, Stannis saw that Ned was growling something to him under his breath.  That was probably sufficient to quell Robert, but it was time to put a stop to this.  “There are only two people in this room with any reason to discuss this any further if they choose, and you’re not one of them, brother.”  Stannis was prepared to make a similar remark to anyone else who didn’t let the matter drop.  Ned may not wish to leave it alone and Stannis would allow let him dress him down within reason, as long as he did it privately.

Robert took the rebuke with a huff and Catelyn and Renly took on the mantle of orchestrating innocuous small talk for the rest of the meal.  At least twice, possibly more, Stannis stole a glance at Sansa across the table and she caught him every time, even giving him a shy smile once.  _What else would someone taught to be polite by Catelyn Stark do?_  

After dinner dishes were cleared and Renly’s dishwasher was packed to capacity, the intent was for those inclined to watch football to retire to the media room while others either sat outside and enjoyed the moderate Fall temperature or found something else to occupy them. 

Stannis went toward the patio to tell Shireen he would be by to pick her up later and stopped in the doorway left open due to the pleasant weather.  His daughter was standing at the edge of one of Renly’s flower beds pointing out flowers to Sansa . . . at least that’s what he thought was going on.  

“Coming in to watch the game?” Ned asked, walking up to stand beside him in the doorway. 

Of course, Ned would want to get him away from Sansa.  If it were Shireen and a man fifteen years older than her, he’d undoubtedly be doing the same thing and with far less tact.  If he phrased it just right, Stannis could let Ned know he had nothing more to worry about.  “I’m waiting to tell Shireen I’ll be back in a few hours to pick her up.  I should go into the office and do some work while it’s quiet.” 

He expected Ned would understand that he was saying he wasn’t planning on that discussion with Sansa and didn’t plan to embarrass her any further.  What he got instead was what he assumed was the start of Ned’s confrontation.  “I had a hard enough time dealing with Sansa talking about boys her own age, so when she talked about a man in his mid-thirties . . . you’ll know all too soon with Shireen.”  When Ned stood there and watched the same scene he was watching, he thought perhaps that was all he planned to say.  The pause went on so long that Stannis wondered why Ned was still standing there unless he meant to ensure Stannis steered clear of Sansa. 

“Only hearing bits and pieces from Cat, my nightmare . . . once I was assured it couldn’t have been a married man . . . was that her mystery man was Petyr Baelish.  As horrified as Sansa was at thinking she had flirted with an engaged man, I actually welcomed the news because it meant it wasn’t Baelish,” Ned cleared his throat.   “Then today I learn it was you.” 

Neither man looked at the other and there was more silence before Ned added one more statement, clapping him once on the back.  “I’m horrified that I’m not horrified.” With that, Ned turned away from the door and headed for the media room.   

Stannis was contemplating whether Ned wasn’t horrified because he knew there was no chance of his daughter having any further interest or whether Ned was saying he wouldn’t be horrified if they actually did start seeing each other.  Taking a look at the beauty that was Sansa Stark, the latter was sadly unimaginable. 

Shireen finally turned around and saw him in the doorway.  He received a bright smile from the one person in the world who loved him unconditionally.  Sansa turned to see what caught Shireen’s attention and smiled at him too; it was a hesitant smile.  The best thing he could do for her was get out of here quickly.  Stannis motioned for Shireen to join him at the door with a wave of his hand.  The response was for Sansa to reach for her hand and walk with her. 

“Sansa knows the name of every flower in Uncle Renly’s garden, Daddy!” Shireen informed him excitedly.  “I didn’t know nearly as many!”

“There’s always more to learn,” Stannis replied indulgently, agitated that Sansa was standing behind her obviously wanting a word with him.  He wanted to tell her it wasn’t necessary, but he couldn’t deny it would be bringing this business to a definitive conclusion and that had an undeniable upside.  Stannis crouched down and spoke to his daughter.  “Ms. Stark and I are going to talk and then I’m going to go into work for a few hours.  You can stay here and play.  If you get tired before I return, ask Uncle Renly to find a place for you to take a nap.” 

Shireen smiled at him again and Stannis was grateful that Rickon seemed to be like the Seaworth boys, accepting of Shireen without making fun of her scars, “Okay, Daddy!”

“Now run along and play,” Stannis said, smoothing her hair before he stood.  Both Sansa and he watched her run back out into the garden and join Rickon in running around the garden in some game that he had an idea was only known to the two of them.    

Sansa turned to face him and he felt a lump in his throat at the steady gaze of those radiant blue eyes framed by the loveliest face he’d ever seen. “I asked Renly if we could use his study,” she began without any fanfare, and then gave him a sheepish grin.  “He assumes you know where the key is.” 

He imagined that if he were one to easily find humor in situations, Stannis would find it in her choice of venue for this talk of theirs amusing.  Sansa followed him into the now empty kitchen where she watched as he opened the drawer containing the cutlery and lifted the tray to retrieve a key found wedged in a hollow area underneath formed by the raising of one of the columns in the tray.  Turning to head out of the kitchen toward the study, Stannis put out his hand to place it in the small of her back to lead her and then pulled it away.  Even that small of a touch could make him lose his concentration and he needed his wits to stay calm in the face of whatever she had to say to him.  _Don’t get defensive; just listen to her tell you thanks, but no thanks and walk away._   Stannis hoped that, in the light of day, he wouldn’t look as miserable as he was sure he had walking away from her the night of the Halloween party.


	7. Chapter 7

King’s Landing, 2015  
Sansa Stark

 

Stannis Baratheon’s one-word answer, when they were introduced, didn’t trigger her memory, but the moment he answered Myrcella with that voice that seemed both smooth and graveled at the same time, Sansa felt every nerve in her body scream at her that Erik was sitting across from her.  Because of some of the things Myrcella had said about him, Sansa had paid close attention to Stannis before she realized who he was.  Looking back, Sansa was surprised that the way he sat didn’t trigger a memory.  She’d had the same thought about Erik that night as she did about Stannis at the table and how both managed to sit so impossibly straight. 

She’d noted that he was interesting in the way brooding men were often interesting to a woman.  If he had looked at her at just the right time, he would have seen her blushing when she remembered a comment Myrcella made about thinking he’d be an intense lover because all those pent-up emotions had to come out somehow.   Of all the things she’d heard about Stannis Baratheon, no one mentioned he was actually very attractive, even with the scowl.  Yes, he was probably one who gained a little more forehead every year, but it worked for him.  There was a masculinity about Stannis that she found appealing.   However, the big attention getter had been watching him fill his daughter’s plate, asking her patiently at each dish whether she wanted to try it and just how much she wanted.  Sansa watched with great interest as he carried Shireen’s plate to the island and lifting her to set on the island stool.  It took her a few seconds of watching him move the little girl around on the stool and looking at the stool itself to see that he was worried she might fall.  Sansa heard Bran say he would watch her and Sansa was very proud of her little brother.  All of the things she noticed were added to the list of things she remembered about Erik when she realized the two were one and the same, such as the firmness of his body when she had leaned against him and danced with him and, of course, that the man was a champion kisser.    

Thanks to Robert and Arya, everyone knew Stannis was the man who kissed her in Renly’s study that night.  She was mortified at everyone hearing of her being hot and bothered that night, although she knew her parents realized she’d never used those words to Arya, of all people.  Most of her mortification came from how true it was, although she reminded herself that he had given evidence of being bothered as well. 

Then Stannis dressed Robert down after he made it obvious he was going to keep trying to make a joke of it all.  Dad had whispered something to Robert, but Stannis stopped them all, including Arya.  Stannis was utterly clueless if he would have cared at all, of how many hero points he earned with that one. 

As they carried plates in to rinse them and put them in the dishwasher, she pulled Renly aside for a second and, blushing furiously, asked him if she minded if she spoke to Stannis privately in the study.  Renly grinned and started to say something she could well imagine was one-liner about returning to the scene of the crime, but he stopped himself.  “Stannis seems to know where I keep the key.”

“Thank you,” she acknowledged politely, trying to appear as a sophisticated adult woman rather than a swooning girl. 

Before he walked away from her, Renly’s expression grew serious.  “Let him down gently . . . please.  He’s not . . . well, he’s made of iron, but iron can be brittle and break.” 

Renly walked away, not giving her time to form an answer.  Sansa decided to wait just outside the kitchen for Stannis to come out when Myrcella took her arm and pulled her through the patio doors and into the garden.  “I still can’t quite believe it.  I mean, there was a part of me that knew you were describing Uncle Stannis, but . . . San, I’m so sorry!”

Sansa hoped she was apologizing for being wrong and not for it actually being Stannis.  “I’m glad it wasn’t Beric Dondarrion,” Sansa responded, deliberately trying to be noncommittal.  Stannis had been right.  The two people who needed to discuss this were the two of them and no one else.

“I was so used to the way Papa treats him . . . as if he’s a thing.  I’m ashamed to say it’s only been in the last few years that I realized there was a person there . . . an interesting, caring, shy, socially awkward person.  I’ve heard Renly say ‘poor Shireen’ for having Stannis as a father.  Does she seem like an unhappy little girl to you?”

There was a great deal Sansa could say to Myrcella right now if they weren’t likely to be overheard and if she was so inclined.  “I don’t think he’ll confront you, but if he does . . . more than likely it will be to do something like apologize for not being someone else,” Myrcella added, running her hand up and down a few inches on Sansa’s arm sympathetically before turning and walking back into the house hurriedly.  Sansa actually thought she saw tears in Myrcella’s eyes and she started to follow her when Rickon yelled for her. 

Rickon and Shireen were standing next to one of Renly’s flowerbeds and Sansa opted to join them.  She would talk to Myrcella later after she managed to have a conversation with Stannis.  There were a lot of assumptions being made about the two of them.  Some were correct and some were incorrect, at last on her behalf.  However, she did think Myrcella was right in thinking it wasn’t likely he meant to speak to her before he left.  She prepared herself for having to ambush him if necessary.    

Sansa hadn’t been introduced to Shireen.  Walking over to join them, Sansa put a hand on Rickon’s shoulder affectionately and spoke to the little girl.  “Hi, Shireen.  We haven’t met.  I’m Rickon’s sister, Sansa.”

“Hi!” the little girl smiled.  “Rickon says you work with flowers and know the names of all of them!” 

Myrcella was right.  Shireen was a happy, sweet-natured girl.  Rickon grew bored with them in about one second and they chatted as Shireen eagerly pointed to flowers she didn’t know and asked Sansa for their names.  The little bundle of energy was twisting from side to side as she combed the flowerbed with her dark blue eyes, so much like her father’s, to make sure she hadn’t missed one of the flowers when something caught her eyes and made her turn around.    

Sansa followed her gaze to see Stannis watching them from the doorway.  He motioned for Shireen to join him and it occurred to Sansa that he intended to leave now.  That wasn’t going to happen.  Everyone assumed they knew what she was thinking and feeling.  He probably assumed he did too. 

She took Shireen’s hand and walked with her to the door where Stannis stood.  Stannis got down on his haunches to be at eye level with his daughter and addressed her first.  Just as she thought; he was planning to leave.  It took every ounce of courage she could muster to blurt out, “I asked Renly if we could use his study.” The look on his face was apprehensive when she added with an embarrassed smile.  “He assumes you know where the key is.”

A nod was all she got for assent before he turned and led her into the kitchen.  Renly had a unique hiding place for a key in the underside of the cutlery tray.  Sansa was impressed with how easily Stannis removed the key without it being so obvious that was what he was doing.  Unless you were standing right next to him, as she was, you’d think he was looking for a fork.  No wonder this wasn’t noticed at the Halloween party.  He would have looked like a guest getting a fork to eat with. 

Stannis used the key and opened the study door, holding the door for her to go in ahead of him.  Sansa hadn’t really planned what to say, but she wasn’t rattled until he stood against the door after he closed it.  Stannis appeared ready to make a hasty exit despite meeting her eyes.  It told her he believed what Renly and possibly Myrcella did . . . that she was there to give him some form of a letdown.  “You probably want to come away from there,” she tried to tease lightly.  “There’s no telling who is behind that door trying to listen.” 

Taking her seriously, Stannis moved away from the door.    His expression was hard to read.  There was the scowl she assumed was always there, but it was hard to tell if he was dreading what he thought she had to say or was merely curious.  Sansa did find it interesting that his next chosen place to perch was to lean against the very same desk where they had kissed her several weeks before.  “Then why choose here and now?” Stannis asked,

“Now is before I lose my nerve.  Here is to be reminded,” Sansa answered, walking to the Dornish doors with the intent of closing the blinds.  Looking outside, she saw Shireen and Rickon playing.  “Come here for a second,” she beckoned. 

Stannis came to stand beside her and looked out the door to see his daughter and her playmate using nerf bats as swords and having a great time.  Sansa saw Stannis survey the scene first with concern and then relaxing when he decided Shireen was safe.  It told Sansa a great deal about the man.  He wanted to keep his daughter safe, but not smoother her.   

Standing next to him brought back a flood of memories.  “Renly thinks I’m in here to let you down easy.  Myrcella tried to advise me that you would try to apologize although she didn’t say what for.”

“I’m not apologizing,” Stannis said, still watching his daughter through the window.

“And I’m not letting you down easy . . . or at all,” Sansa affirmed, which caused him to look directly at her.  “Myrcella brought the guest list from the party to my apartment.  Every detail I told her as we tried to figure out who Erik was screamed your name to her and yet she found it impossible that it was you because, in her mind, you would never go to a costume party, much less put on a costume.  But you did and it was you.   Robert thinks there is no way I want to spend time with you.  But I do.  I wanted to talk to you because I want us to decide what next, not let everyone else tell us what they think it should be.”

Stannis only stared at her, giving her no indication whether her confession was welcome or not.  Whatever he was trying to determine or decide, Sansa could only give him the time and space to think it through.  Perhaps she overstepped in assuming there was an ‘us’ to decide the fate of and all he was doing was trying to come up with a way to tell her as much. 

She had no idea how much time had passed.  It was only a few minutes, yet it seemed like hours before he spoke.  “I’m a middle-aged, divorced workaholic with a daughter.  I have little conversation and it’s probably true what they say about me being repressed.”

“Probably,” Sansa repeated, reaching up to move down the lever that closed the blinds between the glass of the Dornish door.  “Probably is not definitely.”  She had no idea where her courage was coming from as she put a hand on his arm and put a slight pressure on it to invite him to turn to face her.  It worked; Stannis turned toward her.  Sansa put her arms around his neck, her heart pounding.  “That kiss was about as far from repressed as I could imagine.”

He wasn’t pulling away from her.  His hands made their way to her hips, but he wasn’t leaning down to kiss her again.  Dark blue eyes bore into hers.  “Perhaps you did unlock something that night.  It still doesn’t change the rest.”

“You’re older than I am, but you’re not old and you’re not too old for us to go on a date and see what happens.”  Sansa began, surprising herself at both her calm and the thoughts coming to her.  “Yes, you are divorced and it will make you cautious about remarrying or perhaps marrying at all.  Well, I plan to be cautious as well, so we have that in common.   You work hard; so do I.  You have an adorable daughter and the fact that you’re a good father makes you very . . .” Sansa started to say it made him very sexy, but she wasn’t that bold.  “It adds to your appeal.” 

His hands on her hips moved around her back and tightened his hold, pulling her close enough for their bodies to touch.  Wave upon wave of liquid electricity coursed through her veins.  The darkening of those large, all-seeing eyes told her he wasn’t unaffected either.  If she opened her mouth again to speak, the only words that would come out would be to beg him to put his lips on hers.  Instead, she put a little pressure on his neck with her fingers in the hope that he would take the hint. 

As his face lowered toward hers, she closed her eyes and breathed in the heady scent of sandalwood and his personal musk.  Sansa’s body went limp the moment his lips touched hers.  The kiss started out soft. . . tender.  The second she opened her mouth to him, Stannis took control.  His mouth grew insistent, demanding a response.  Stannis tasted of lemons and she drank him in eagerly.  The exploration of his tongue and his hands pressing against her back sent tremors through her whole body, making her dizzy.  Sansa hoped no one really was on the other side of that door because she wasn’t quite sure if the moans coming from her were only loud in her head or if they were in danger of being heard throughout Renly’s house.  The only kiss that even came close to this was the last time Stannis kissed her.  If this was how it felt to be kissed by a repressed man, she wondered what being love to by him would be like. 

Just when she thought it couldn’t get more intense, one of Stannis’ hands roamed up her back, along his neck, and splayed into her hair so that he could tilt her head to the side and gain access to her neck.  His lips went straight for the spot he’d learned before was guaranteed to elicit a moan, and if that was Stannis’ objective, he wasn’t disappointed.  Her moan was returned by his grinding his hardened shaft against her.  The involuntary action made him let go of her and step away, his eyes still wide and dark. 

Both of them waited for their breathing to settle while Sansa put a hand through her hair to smooth it down.  “Stannis, I really would like for you to ask me out.  We know we’re attracted to each other.”  Sansa worried her lip.  She’d never had to try to encourage a man to ask her out before.  “I’d like to know if there’s more than just an attraction.” 

Stannis stood there, staring at her and saying nothing.  Sansa waited, praying he’d speak up and just say the word, “Okay,” if nothing else.  But he didn’t.  He said absolutely nothing.  When Sansa felt tears pooling, she could only turn away.  With each step Sansa took toward the door of the study, she listened for a word or waited for him to make a move to stop her.  By the time her hand was on the door handle, tears were falling down her cheeks.  Sansa wiped them quickly in case there was anyone nearby on the other side of the door.  Then, she pushed the handle down and walked out, closing the door behind her. 

No one asked her what happened and Stannis must have left as he intended.  Sansa realized those who noticed her sadness attributed it to feeling guilty at having to let him down, and it made her angry.  She was angry at everyone who made Stannis feel that he was the kind of man most women would let down or not want to be with.  She was angry at everyone who made him feel unworthy and unloved.  She was angry at him for believing them.  And most of all, Sansa was angry with herself for not having asked him out and arguing when he tried to say no rather than putting the ball in his court.   When she got back to her apartment that night, Sansa broke out the ice cream and watched all of the Colin Firth version of Pride and Prejudice before she managed to fall asleep sometime before dawn. 


	8. Chapter 8

King’s Landing 2015  
Davos Seaworth

 

It was third and goal for the Stormland Thunder to tie the game when the doorbell rang.  Mayra was an even bigger Thunder football fan than he, so Davos motioned for her to stay put while he made his way to the door.  Looking through the peephole, Davos saw a highly agitated, deeply scowling Stannis pacing in front of the doorway. 

Davos quickly opened the door and looked down for Shireen just as a cheer broke out in the great room, “Is everything okay?  Where’s Shireen?” he asked in rapid fire, standing aside to let Stannis in. 

“Shireen is at Renly’s.  I’m interrupting the game?” Stannis spent many a holiday or weekend watching football with them often, but he was far from an avid fan.

“I think the Thunder just scored,” Davos replied, eyeing him with concern.  This had to have something to do with his meeting Sansa Stark.  “What happened?” 

Stannis’ face reddened a little.  “Do you mind if I stay and watch the rest of the game?”

“You have as much interest in that game as I have in ballet,” Davos chided.  “Come on.  Let’s sit in the kitchen or out on the deck.”

“I don’t want to take you away from the game,” Stannis protested.  He probably forgot all about the game until he heard Marya and the boys cheering from the great room.  “I’ll come back.” 

Davos rolled his eyes.  Stannis was seriously upset, but he would stubbornly insist on leaving rather than pull Davos away from watching the game with his family.  From the look of him, Stannis being on his own was not a good idea.  “Watch the game with us and then we’ll have some leftovers and you can tell me what this is all about.” 

Nodding, Stannis followed him into the great room where Marya started to greet him but stopped after hello and looked at Davos questioningly.  Davos mouthed _Sansa_ from behind Stannis’ back and shrugged. 

“Hi, Uncle First!” Stanny exclaimed.    

“Hello, Second,” Stannis replied, his scowl softening for a moment.  He was Stanny’s godfather and namesake, but he hated the nickname version of Stannis and refused to use it.  Stannis the First and Stannis the Second, abbreviated down to First and Second was their shared joke. 

Devan and Steffon just barely acknowledged him as the Sandsnakes were threatening to score.  Stannis sat down in an open spot on the sectional next to Stanny and Davos returned to his recliner.  The game took another hour and a half with the Thunder winning by three points. 

Marya volunteered to handle making sandwiches and dish up leftovers for a late supper on her own so they could talk in private.  Davos hated leaving her to it, but for Stannis to leave Shireen at Renly’s and come directly here . . . his meeting with Sansa had to have been a disaster. 

They sat at the table on the back deck, Stannis with a lemon water and Davos with a glass of wine.  Davos was worn out from a hectic day of helping Marya in the kitchen and too many carbs, and didn’t have the energy for a protracted attempt at pulling out whatever Stannis needed extracted from him, but he was willing to let the cat and mouse games begin if they had to.  He considered telling Stannis he knew who Sansa Stark was, but decided against it.  “So, tell me what happened at Renly’s.” 

Stannis took a drink of lemon water and looked totally flustered.  “Ella . . . Cinderella was there.”

It was lying and Davos hated lying to Stannis.  “Who is she and why was she there?” 

“Ned Stark’s oldest daughter, Sansa.”

The way Stannis led with identifying her as Ned’s daughter, Davos’ first thought was that might be the problem.  It was quite possible there was there no drama here other than Stannis being upset that his dream girl turned out to be the daughter of a man Stannis spent years actively disliking.  “Did she recognize you?”

“Not by sight,” Stannis replied, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.  “Fortunately, I had guessed she was Ella before I was introduced to her so she didn’t see much of a reaction.” 

“How did you figure it out?”  Davos found it curious about what made him realize who she was since only a few days ago, he had no clue. 

Taking another drink of his water in a gulp, Stannis continued, “When I got there, I went into the media room.  Catelyn Stark, Myrcella, and Sansa were in the kitchen and I didn’t see them.  Catelyn came into the media room and I saw her eyes.  I knew there was something familiar about Ella’s eyes when I got a good look at them the night of the party, but it wasn’t until I saw Catelyn that I realized Ella had Tully blue eyes.  I put that together with knowing Sansa Stark lived in King’s Landing now, was single, and probably ran in the same circles as Renly’s friends.  Of course, when I was introduced to her at dinner, I knew for certain.”

“So she didn’t recognize you by sight . . . did she eventually figure out who you were?”  Yes, this was going to be one of the coax-every-little-detail-out-of-him nights. 

“I spoke to her when we met and when I got no look of recognition or response, I thought I was safe from detection.”

This was where Stannis could exasperate a person.  “I hope you’re not trying to tell me you didn’t want her to know it was you because I’m not buying that.”  The man he was talking to the other day was practically wallowing in _might have been_ misery over his Cinderella, admittedly pepper heavily with _I’m not worthy_ that defines Stannis when it comes to a woman. 

There was more lemon water and more staring into the night sky and Davos got the impression this was the first time Stannis really stopped to think about what he would have felt like if she hadn’t picked up on him being the man dressed as the Phantom.  Davos was sure she did recognize him and that was going to be the next part of the story.

“Myrcella asked me a question at the dinner table and when I answered it, I saw her realize it was me.  Then . . . “ Stannis’ scowl went into code red, “. . . then all hell broke loose.  Shireen told Renly I went to a costume party and he asked me about it at the table.  Myrcella and Sansa had gotten together to try to figure out who the Phantom was and I was ruled out because no one believed I would go to a party, much less wear a costume.  They had someone else picked out as the Phantom, someone engaged and Sansa was pretty upset by that.”

Marya interrupted his story, bringing them plates with two turkey sandwiches each and heated dressing and sweet potatoes.  Both thanked her and waited for her to return inside the house.  “Evidently Myrcella picked up on it being me but as I said, ruled it out until she heard I was at the party.  She called me on it and I wasn’t going to lie.  So then everyone knew it had been me, not just Sansa.”

Davos didn’t see that coming.  Knowing Stannis, he was mortified and it’s possible he left right then and came straight here.  “What happened next?” he prompted. 

“It snowballed from there,” Stannis said with a grimace.  “Her sister asked me point blank if I was the one who got Sansa, and I’m quoting here, hot and bothered.”

He couldn’t help it.  Davos snickered and while he expected a look of reproach from Stannis, what he got was a slight smirk.  “It didn’t help that Ned and Catelyn were sitting at that table, not to mention Robert and Renly.” 

Okay, so he liked hearing that Sansa got hot and bothered over him.  _Who wouldn’t?_   So the problem must have been Ned’s or Robert’s reaction.  “Did Ned say anything?”

“Not until later,” Stannis responded.  “He said he was horrified that he wasn’t horrified.”

That sounded much better than Davos expected.  In fact, one of the reasons Davos had been thrilled to learn that Sansa Stark was Cinderella because of the old adage about a girl being attracted to men who reminded them of their father.  He’d long thought one of the main reasons Stannis had disdain for Ned was because he could never figure out why Robert chose Ned over him when they were so alike.  Sure, not exactly peas in a pod.  However, both men were on the righteous side with somber personalities.  Both had reputations for being cold, yet both were good fathers.  The only difference was quite possibly that Ned at least cracked a smile at some of Robert’s shit when Stannis didn’t. 

“So Ned didn’t come after you with his butter knife.  What else happened at the table?”

Stannis finished the bite of his sandwich and washed it down with his lemon water.  “Sansa made a comment about us not meeting formally until today that made everyone laugh, and then Robert . . .”   Stannis’ jaw clenched and his voice grew angry.  “Robert tried to drag out the joke, claiming it would have been impossible for it to have been me if she was . . . well, you know.” 

What Davos knew was that Robert had either planted the seed or reinforced the idea in Stannis’ head that Sansa Stark was too young . . . too attractive . . . too fill in the blank for him.  Sometimes, Davos just wanted to hit Robert Baratheon upside the head with a baseball bat . . . not enough to kill him, but to perhaps knock some sense into him.  Davos was never sure if Robert deliberately wounded Stannis and then picked off the scabs or whether he had no clue about what he was really doing.  It was quite possible the next part of the story was Robert taking it too far and Stannis knocking his teeth out at the table.  Stannis would allow Robert to berate him and take it, but he’d never allow him to go too far in teasing Shireen or Myrcella, and probably not Sansa Stark either.  “Since I’m not bailing you out of jail, I assume someone stopped Robert before he went too far down the rabbit hole.”

“Ned mumbled something to him and I told him it wasn’t any of his business.”  Davos was glad to hear Stannis didn’t fold, not that he really expected him to, until after he was out of sight of Robert. 

Davos still hadn’t heard anything that warranted the level of agitation he felt coming off of his best friend.  “What else happened?  Did you talk to Sansa privately?”

The pained expression on Stannis’ face told him they were getting somewhere.  Davos took a few bites while Stannis geared up for telling the part he most wanted to tell and least wanted to vocalize.  “She asked me to go with her to the study.” 

“The same study you were in that night?”

“Yes.  She said she wanted it to be a reminder,” Stannis said.  Again, Davos heard nothing negative . . . yet. 

“She went to the patio doors and called me over to show me Shireen and the youngest Stark boy playing.  We stood there watching them and she told me how Renly had asked her to let me down easy and Myrcella said I would apologize, which I wasn’t.  Sansa said she felt we should decide what next and not them.” 

Davos decided he really liked this girl!  “What did you decide?”

“I told her all the reasons why I was a bad idea,” Stannis ground out the words. 

“And her response?” Davos took a few more bites of his food because he knew he’d be waiting for this one.  If she had lambasted him, he’d have already spilled it.  So it meant she hadn’t, and that would take him longer to work up to relaying anything she might have said that was positive about him.

“She kissed me . . . or rather, she got me to kiss her.” 

Davos so did not get what the problem was.  Stannis liked this girl; even he had to know that.  Sansa letting him kiss her again, which he couldn’t quite imagine but was proud of on some brotherly level, was an indicator that she liked him as well.  “Stannis, I’m not seeing the problem here and the look on your face when you arrived . . . ever since you’ve been here actually . . . says something went wrong.  Did you bite her lip or something?” 

The jaw was clenched again and the teeth began to grind.  Davos had a real fear that maybe Stannis got overheated and carried away . . . groped her or did something she found offensive in the heat of the moment.  It was hard to imagine, but then again so was Stannis kissing a woman he’d never met before in a dark room while wearing a mask and in that same room the next time he meets her without the mask. 

“Sansa told me she wanted me to ask her out,” Stannis ground out, as he clenched one of his hands into a fist on the table. 

Davos waited . . . there had to be more.  But no, Stannis just sat there looking utterly wretched.  When Davos realized nothing more was coming, a sinking feeling hit him in the gut.  “Oh fuck, Stannis . . . no!  Tell me you did not run from her!” 

“I did not run from her,” Stannis relayed far too quickly. 

“Did you walk away from her?”

“No.” 

They were at the pulling teeth stage.  Davos figured he could keep guessing and getting minimal answers or he could cut to the chase again.  “So when are you going out with her?” 

Stannis rolled his eyes.  “I didn’t ask her out.  I wanted too . . . I’d warned her about what I’m like and she said she wanted to find out if this was more than an attraction between us.  I froze.  I couldn’t say anything.” 

He could see the scene.  That poor girl standing there while Stannis stared in silent panic.  “I haven’t been on a date in . . . I don’t even think you could say Selyse and I dated.  I kept thinking how everyone thought I was all wrong for her.”

“Except a Ned who was not horrified,” Davos cut in.  “And most importantly, Sansa herself.  You couldn’t just say something like let’s go to dinner next weekend after your parents leave?” 

“No,” Stannis croaked.  “I’d want to take her somewhere special and I had no idea where that would be or what to do.  All I could think of was Robert saying there was no way she could be attracted to me and Renly telling her to let me down gently.  There was also something about Myrcella thinking I needed to apologize.” 

Davos rolled his eyes.  “I doubt that’s what Myrcella said.  More than likely, she said you would try to apologize even though you didn’t do anything to apologize for.  As for your brothers, it doesn’t matter a tinker’s damn what they said or what they think!  What matters here is that Sansa Stark put her heart on her sleeve today and you basically shut her down.”   

His assertion made Stannis visible cringe.  “If . . . if she would talk to me long enough now for me to try again to ask her out . . . and if she said yes . . . I still don’t have a clue where to take a girl in her twenties.  It sounds ridiculous for me to even consider dating at all, much less a beauty her age.” 

Stannis had him there.  Not with the bit about it being ridiculous for him to consider dating Sansa, but he had no clue where Stannis would take her on a date.  Davos had been a poor boy on scholarship to a rich man’s school when he was dating Marya, occasionally borrowing Stannis’ car to do so.  They went to the movies, picnics, and dinners at fast food restaurants.  “We need an expert,” Davos reasoned.  “Marya!” 

Marya joined them at the table, getting a brief update from Davos that had Stannis turning so red, it was visible in the dim deck lights.  “So can he still ask her out?”

His wife looked directly at Stannis.  “Do you like her, Stannis?  Do you really want to spend time with her and see how it goes?”

“I do,” Stannis said as clearly and with the determination he showed when sitting at a negotiating table setting terms.  It was as though one person suddenly left the table and another more determined one took his place. 

Satisfied with his answer, Marya started her advice.  “You need to talk to her either tonight or tomorrow at the latest.  You need to tell her what made you freeze.  No bravado.  You’re smart enough to know you’ve got to show her who you really are.  Dates are about getting to know each other and spending time together.  My suggestion is that the first date is neutral, such as dinner and a show or concert.  If that leads to a second date, make it something that tells her about you.  Knowing you, my first thought is sailing, but I remember seeing a picture of Sansa Stark in a design magazine.  You might have to be very careful about how fair skinned she is.  Discuss it with her.  For a third date, ask her where she’d like to go . . . ask her to let it be something that tells you about her.  If it’s something you don’t like . . . suck it up.  You could end up surprised.”

Davos listened to his wife in awe, knowing full well that their first three dates had no such agenda and wondering if she was disappointed by his lack of awareness of this grand plan.  Stannis, however, took in her every word and Davos knew he was mentally taking notes. 

“Thank you,” Stannis offered sincerely.  He was wearing his resolved scowl now, which was a far more confident look than he came in with.  “I owe you both.  Sansa may still be at Renly’s and it’s time I picked up Shireen.” 

Davos wanted to warn him that Sansa might not forgive him for what he did today and decided against it.  He didn’t have time to change his mind as Marya had more instructions.  “If she isn’t there, wait until tomorrow and start with a text message . . . sometime between nine and ten.  You may have to wait for her reply, so wait patiently.”

“I don’t have her number,” Stannis noted to himself, followed by a moment of consideration.  “I can get it from Myrcella.” 

Stannis finished his dinner quickly and made to leave, thanking them again.  Davos felt both pride and a touch of jealousy at how Marya so quickly managed to settle Stannis down while also bucking him up. 

“Baby,” Davos pulled his wife into his arms after closing the front door.  Her matter-of-fact plan about dating still made him feel a bit guilty.  He hated to think he had short-changed her in some way.  “Our first dates . . . “

Marya put a finger over his lips to stop him.  “You had me the first time you grinned that loopy grin of yours at me and if a girl like Sansa Stark, with men crawling all over her, went to the trouble she did with Stannis today, he’s got her too.  But Stannis is strategic.  He needs a plan to function.  I gave him the only one I could devise on the spur of the moment.”

Pulling her closer, Davos kissed the marvel that was his wife and then pulled back to gaze down at her.  “So you like my loopy grin, do you?”

“I do,” Marya returned with a knowing smile of her own.

Davos returned it with a smirk.  “If I keep grinning at you, do you think I’ll get lucky tonight?”

“Yuck!” their ten-year-old son, Devan, groaned loudly as he passed them on his way to the great room.  “Go to your room!” 


	9. Chapter 9

King’s Landing 2015  
Stannis Baratheon

 

No one was still at Renly’s when he arrived to pick up Shireen to take her home.  Renly let him in and it was all Stannis could do to not respond to the sympathetic look Renly was giving him. 

“Stannis, man, I had no idea,” his younger brother began to apologize as soon as he was inside the door.  “I thought you went to a party at the Seaworths.  Since I didn’t see you and you never come to my parties before, I just . . . it didn’t occur to me you might be Sansa’s Phantom.” 

It took effort not to clench his jaw.  “You didn’t know.  Has everyone left?” 

“Yeah, about a half hour ago.  Shireen’s asleep in the guest room.  You could let her stay and pick her up tomorrow . . . or stay yourself.” 

This apologetic bending over backward of Renly’s was disconcerting since it was obviously predicated on the notion that Stannis was summarily kicked to the curb a few hours earlier.   However, Stannis was taken aback that Renly wasn’t making fun of him as Robert would be if he were standing here. 

He had considered waking up Myrcella first thing tomorrow morning and asking her for Sansa’s phone number, but it might be easier to get it from Renly and have Myrcella for a backup.  Marya suggested a text message first, and he was assuming it was to ask if she would talk to him to allow him to apologize.    

“Before I get Shireen, would you give me Sansa’s number?  I didn’t ask her.”  Stannis tried to sound as nonchalant and unaffected as he was capable.

The dubious look from Renly was expected and he could expect a similar response from Myrcella.  Admitting what happened to Renly would actually be easier than admitting his stupidity to Myrcella although he dreaded it.  If he said he was rude to her, Renly wouldn’t give him Sansa’s number for fear he’d make matters worse.  He had to own up to what happened.  “She asked me to ask her out and I stood there like an idiot until she got tired of waiting for me to say something.” 

Stannis expected laughter and what he got was a glare that Stannis was positive Renly learned from him.  “You’re serious . . . you just stood there?” 

He couldn’t hold back the jaw clenching.  There was only so much crow he’d eat from Renly before he went another route for the number though he suspected facing Myrcella with the truth would be much worse.  “I need to apologize to her, but I don’t have her number.” 

“I thought she was so down after she talked to you because she’s tender-hearted,” Renly was incredulous.  “I’ve been waiting for you to come back thinking you were the one who needed sympathy.  Turns out, she’s the one who should have had my sympathy.”

Stannis returned his glare despite the dejection he felt at hearing that he truly might have hurt her feelings.  He knew those gut punches all too well.  “All the more reason for me have her number so I may text an apology.”

“TEXT!” Renly literally screamed in a high-pitched voice.  Stannis automatically glanced toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms to look for a startled and confused Shireen to make her way out.   

“Marya said to text her this morning,” he hissed back. 

This received an eye roll.  “Of course Marya Seaworth told you to send a text.  She would tell you to do what was easiest for you!  You went to the two people most likely to tell you what you wanted to hear.”

“No!” Stannis growled back in a hushed tone to keep from waking Shireen.  “I went to the two people who didn’t think I was so damned worthless that it was a given that an attractive woman would want to run from me.  Want to know what helped me freeze in there, _brother_?”  Stannis was seething, his fists balled up at his sides.  “It was wondering if I really am as worthless to her as you and Robert seem to think I am.  That I had to think of some place extraordinary to take her on a date because dinner with me would be the most boring thing imaginable.”

Stannis wasn’t sure if he was gratified or mortified that Renly now looked as if one of those fists he had balled up had connected to his jaw.  “Teasing is what brothers do!” he stammered, and then looked even more guilty when Stannis gave him a _just who are you trying to bullshit?_ look.  “Okay, so yeah . . . you’re not someone I would imagine for a stunner like Sansa Stark.  It’s not because you’re worthless . . . it’s . . . it’s because you . . . hell, I couldn’t even imagine you having sex with Selyse.  I told myself septas left Shireen at your door.  But then I hear that the man behind the kiss that had Sansa going on a manhunt was you and my mind ceased to function.  Do you . . . would you sleep with Sansa if she offered?”

There was no way he was answering that question to anyone other than Sansa and he was quite sure his clenched jaw and scowl told his brother that he needn’t expect an answer.  But for his own benefit, the idea of sleeping with Sansa Stark meant he needed to focus on something else.  “Thank you for letting Shireen stay here and for dinner.”  He meant it, even if the leftover edge in his voice made him sound anything but sincere. 

“Look, Stannis.  You need to see Sansa tomorrow morning.  She’ll probably go to Robert’s first thing to be with the rest of the Starks.  You’ll need to catch her before Robert and Ned get so boring with their walks down memory lane that the women leave to take advantage of holiday sales.  Leave Shireen here and pick her up tomorrow after you talk to Sansa.  I’ll make her waffles for breakfast.” 

Stannis considered the offer, knowing Renly was trying to help.  The problem was he told Shireen he would be back for her and he never lied to her, always trying to do what he told her he would.  She was a sound sleeper, so he could move her without waking her, but the action of putting her in the car seat would surely disturb her sleep.  Stannis wanted to see her, primarily to ensure she was fine although he had no fear that she was otherwise in Renly’s care.  Looking at Shireen made him feel better about himself.  He might be the most socially awkward and unlovable person on the planet, but he sired one of that planet’s sweetest and most loving little girls. 

“I don’t want to wake her up to put her in the car.  Do you mind if I let myself in early with the key I have so I’ll be here when she wakes up?”  It wouldn’t be the first time she’d slept over at her uncle’s house, so she wouldn’t be afraid when she awoke.  Still, he wanted to be there since he wasn’t taking her home, as planned. 

“Yeah . . . sure,” Renly nodded.  “You’re better at waffles than I am and you’ll be here before I wake up.”  Renly added as an afterthought.  “I may take her shopping while you’re gone, but I’ll text you first.” 

“Speaking of texts, all I want to do is text her first and see if she’ll agree to see me in order to apologize.” Stannis tried one more time, only to have Renly give him a firm look. 

“Go see her, Stannis.  In this, I have your best interests at heart.”  Renly did look sincere, perhaps even contrite. 

Stannis accepted the advice with a grimace.  “I’ll look in on Shireen before I leave.” 

By five the next morning, Stannis was back in Renly’s guest room sitting in a chair waiting for his daughter to wake up.  He had actually dozed off to wake up and find Shireen asleep on his lap.  His movement woke her up too.  “You can get in the bed if you want, Daddy.  I’m done with it.” 

Rubbing his eyes and then focusing, Stannis hugged her to him for a few seconds before letting her climb down.  “I came by last night and you were asleep.  I went home and came back this morning.”

“Did you sleep enough?” Shireen was looking at him with concern. 

“Did you get enough sleep,” he corrected, wishing she didn’t worry about such things.  “I did, thank you.  I brought clean clothes, your toothbrush, and your hairbrush.  I’ll start the shower for you then we’ll have waffles with Uncle Renly for breakfast.”  Stannis remembered learning about Shireen taking her first shower here because Renly didn’t know any better and she didn’t tell him she still took baths because she wanted to try a grown-up shower.  Stannis now reluctantly let her take them, but was always nearby and worried when she did.  Of course, he also had to go back to turn the shower off although she managed to turn it most of the way off.  Even at seven years old, she still tiny. 

In typical Renly fashion, he joined them after the waffle iron was hot and the batter ready to pour. 

“Did Daddy tell you we get to hang out together this morning?” Renly announced after he picked Shireen up and swung her around.  Stannis was always a little dismayed when he saw Renly do that sort of thing . . . Davos too.  He didn’t know how to.  Stannis merely picked her up and held her as tight as he could without hurting her. 

“Are you going into work, Daddy?” Shireen asked, and he listened for signs that she was upset by his leaving her with Renly and didn’t hear it.      

Stannis made light of informing her he had something to take care of and that they would visit the Seaworths later in the day.  While Shireen was occupied buttering her waffle at the table, Stannis asked Renly, “Are there florists open the day after Thanksgiving?”

His younger brother broke with a sputtering laugh, although containing his voice to a whisper that couldn’t be overheard by Shireen.  “I know you’re trying to convince yourself you’ve got big balls after yesterday’s epic fail, but trust me on this . . . they’re not big enough to show up at Robert’s with flowers in hand.  And even if you could take his crap, he’d never let Sansa hear the end of it until Ned or Catelyn found something to crack over his head.” 

He had a point.  Robert would turn the gesture into a big joke.  It was seven o’clock before he went back home and tried to manage a few hours of work to occupy his mind before it was a reasonable time to go to Robert’s and hope Sansa was there. 

The air was crisp, but not cold when he opened the door of to check to see how if the morning’s temperature had gone up.  It was still cool enough to warrant putting his black leather jacket on over the Henley he wore before he left to either make a dinner date with Sansa or make more of an ass of himself.  Either way, the time had come and rather than drive, Stannis walked the twenty minutes to Robert’s house in Royal Estates. 

Robert’s home had a circle drive in the front and a large portico.  Since Mrs. Caswell had the holidays off, he was right in assuming it would be Myrcella who answered the door.  “Uncle Stannis?” her surprise at seeing him there obvious.  He had no idea how much or how little Sansa might have told his niece.  She stepped aside in the doorway.  “Please, come in.” 

“Thank you, no.  Is Sansa here?” Stannis made every effort to sound as though it wasn’t unusual for him to ask such as question.

It didn’t work.  Myrcella was obviously unsure of what to do.  He didn’t want to put her in an awkward situation.  “Would you ask her if she would speak with me for a few minutes . . . out here.  If she doesn’t want to speak with me, I’ll leave.”

She considered his request and disappeared without argument. In less than a minute, Sansa was walking out the front door.  “Good morning, Stannis,” she said, although it was nowhere near the smiling greeting she gave him as a stranger the day before.  She stood on the opposite side of the portico from him and he knew that wasn’t a good sign. 

Stannis took in the sight of her in black leggings with knee-high leather boots and a long gray sweater that came down past her hips.  Despite that fact that she looked incredibly beautiful, she also looked tired and a wave of guilt washed over him that he may have contributed to that in some way. 

 _Speak damnit!_   Stannis bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to pull himself together.  “Sansa, I am very sorry about my behavior yesterday.  You need to know that . . . if you have anything at all to do with me after this, that I will do something like it again and perhaps worse.  I won’t do it because I mean to insult you . . . I’ll do it because I can be a socially graceless idiot.”

A smile began to play on her lips.  _Oh great, insulting myself gets her to smile!_   Perhaps humiliating himself by admitting how backward he was would get the same response.  “I didn’t speak because I had no idea what to say.  I haven’t been on a date in over a decade, and not too many then.  That alone should recommend you walk away, but I admit I want you to pass on sound judgment this once and go to dinner with me.  I don’t yet have a clue where because my dinners out are usually with business partners and I leave the arrangements up to my assistant.   My non-business dinners out are taking Shireen to Dornish Dilly’s for pizza one night a week.”

The smile on Sansa’s face was full blown now and it nearly blinded him.  “Do you actually play the games at Dornish Dilly’s?” she inquired, perceptibly amused. 

Her question stopped his momentum, knocking him more off-kilter than he was already.  “I . . . I help her play skeeball and I go one round of shooting zombies so she gets more prize tickets.”  Stannis was not about to be embarrassed over something he did to please his daughter.  Of course, it was ridiculous that you spent twenty dragons to win tickets to obtain something worth less than one dragon.  He would introduce Shireen to economics in a few more years. 

“My parents are leaving the middle of next week,” Sansa began, walking across the portico to stand at a right angle to him.  “Would it be intruding on your time with Shireen to go with you to Dornish Dilly’s next weekend?  I love skeeball and this way you don’t have to worry about a sitter.”   

“That would be acceptable to you?”  It wouldn’t be a good opportunity to talk, yet he had to admit he liked the idea. 

Sansa laughed, her eyes alight.  “I only look high maintenance, Stannis.”  Then her demeanor changed, becoming serious.  “Shireen might be confused, possibly even upset, by my joining you.  Maybe our first date should be just the two of us.” 

The fact that she was alluding to there being more than one date was not lost on him.  “Shireen wouldn’t object, but perhaps it would be better for that to be a second date if I don’t scare you off on the first one.”  It followed Marya’s recommendation for a neutral first date and a second date that told her about him.  His interactions with Shireen would certainly tell her a great deal. 

“So dinner it is,” she agreed.  “You’ll need my mobile to call or text me.” 

Stannis took out his mobile and opened his contacts list.  He’d already made an entry with her name for the number he meant to get from Renly.  “I’m ready,” he prompted and then typed in the number she gave him. 

“I don’t have my phone on me.  Would you send me a text with your number later today?”  There was something about her wanting his mobile number that made him feel like he was twenty years younger and the prom queen had just asked for his number, although there was no prom queen at the all-boys school he attended.

“Are you truly letting me off this easily?” Stannis questioned, prompting to see if he really was in her good graces.  “I expected to grovel more.”

Sansa laughed again.  He couldn’t remember when someone other than Shireen found him amusing without making fun of him.  “From what you said earlier about how you’ll undoubtedly do something like that again, you should save whatever else was you planned for further groveling for next time.” 

Staring into those light blue eyes for longer than was probably acceptable, fascinated with the notion they would be around each other enough for there to be a next time.  Stannis forced himself to look away and then look back at her.  “I should be going.  I’ve kept you from your family long enough.” 

All of a sudden, Sansa blushed scarlet.  Stannis tried to think of all he’d said in the last minute that might have prompted such a reaction and drew a blank.  “Did I say something I shouldn’t have?”

“Oh . . . no!” Sansa replied, blushing all the more.  “I was . . . it was something I was thinking.” 

“What is it?” he asked, still suspecting it was something he did or said, and she was too kind to tell him. 

Sansa moved close and stood on the balls of her feet, placing a quick kiss on his cheek.  “Text me your phone number and I’ll tell you then . . . maybe.”  Her face was still tinged with red as she retreated to the door and closed it behind her.  His was probably equally red from his baser instincts screaming at him to take hold of her and make more of that kiss.    

Walking home, it took everything Stannis had to not immediately text his phone number back to her and wait to see if she would resolve the mystery of her sudden blush.  He was almost home when he received a text from Renly, “Taking Shireen shopping.  Will bring her home back after lunch.”  Stannis texted back, “Don’t overload her with sugar.”  Renly prompted returned, “Yes Mother.  All OK?”  Stannis considered his reply before texting back, “Need restaurant recommendation.”  Renly’s “Go Bro!” reply brought about a smirk.

Stannis tried to work but was back to watching the time on his laptop just as he had earlier that morning.  After exactly an hour, Stannis sent a text to the number Sansa gave him, “Thank you for second chance: 555.867.5309.  Blush?” 

It was two minutes before he got a reply.  “Thx 4 #.  Blush was thought of kissing U goodbye in view of RB’s neighbors.”

Stannis read the text several times.  This was flirting . . . it had to be.  Swallowing hard, he knew he needed to respond so might as well go with the truth.  “Wish I’d known.  Don’t care what RB’s neighbors think,” he texted back. 

The next reply was much quicker in getting back to him.  “Not ready 4 Fam 2 see. Would B looking for signs of my being H&B - haha.”

 _H &B . . . Hot and Bothered?_    Stannis was very aware Sansa didn’t text that she would _be_ hot and bothered, only that her family would be looking for signs of it after her sister’s comment.   He wondered if she was aware of the effect the idea of her being H &B was doing to him right now and if that was her intent.  Very glad Shireen was not home at the moment, Stannis got bolder and typed in, “I would be looking for it too,” but couldn’t bring himself to hit send.  Stannis backed it out and typed.  “Don’t want them watching me, obviously.” 

When no reply came after a minute, Stannis assumed she was finished texting and he was free to take that cold shower she’d made necessary.  He stood and put his mobile on the desk next to his laptop.  Before he made it out of his study, the phone buzzed again.  Checking, he read Sansa’s next text, “May B long time B4 we should kiss in public.” 

Stannis definitely needed that cold shower, yet he was smugly compelled to respond, “If ever.” 

“True!  Off shopping.  Text or call me 2nite if you want,” Sansa invited in her reply. 

“I want.”  She could interpret that either way she wanted . . . both would be correct. 

While Stannis still stood in the shower after engaging in an activity he hadn’t allowed himself to do in a very long time, he began the start of a plan.  He was going to court Sansa Stark, win Sansa Stark, and marry Sansa Stark.  It wasn’t because Robert and Renly considered it impossible.  It was because the woman flustered him, excited him, and amazed him.  It was because she made a man everyone was correct in believing was a romantic underachiever become a great kisser just because he was kissing her.  It was because the memory of her taking Shireen’s hand and walking toward him put a lump in his throat.  Yes, Stannis had to devise a strategy, make a plan, and ensure precise execution.  It wouldn’t include being someone he wasn’t, but it might include finding he was more than he thought he was. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've added a few obnoxious "visions" of what we might have in the future in 15 years:  
> \- Stannis and Davos have holo-screens, blue screens that show holographic images, including mini holograms of themselves talking.  
> \- The 3D scanner/printer Stannis has is nothing new . . . perhaps the idea that it's standard home office issue, although the rich could have some version of it today  
> \- The maglev pod Second leaves in is a magnetic levitation pod that self propels on roads according to where you tell it to go  
> \- A comm is a mobile phone/tablet combination  
> \- A holo is a 3D movie only much more 3D than what we have now

King’s Landing **2030**  
Stannis Baratheon

 

Epilogue – 15 Years Later

Stannis stood in his study going over the quarterly reports on the holo-screen, talking to Davos’s hologram icon.  Davos was reviewing a similar holographic screen in his home and viewing a mini-Stannis hologram.  “The stockholders should be pleased,” Davos said through is hologram image. 

“We were over our projected revenue, but I did expect about two percent more than what I’m seeing.  We need to look at our overhead,” Stannis observed.  As the newly elected Chief Executive Officer, Stannis knew he should be saying this Renly, the new Chief Operations Office, instead of the new Chief Information Officer. 

A knock at the study door had him informing Davos, “He’s here.” 

“Go easy on him,” Davos’ hologram laughed just before they signed off. 

“Come in,” Stannis called toward the door and sitting behind his desk in hopes it made him look that one bit more intimidating.   

“Hello Uncle First,” said the slightly nervous Stannis Seaworth, looking every bit the image of his father at the time Stannis and Davos graduated from university together. 

“Good evening, Second.  Have a seat.”  Stannis knew why his godson was here, just as Davos did.  He was slightly bemused that everyone, including Sansa, felt it necessary to warn him in advance.  It’s true, he wasn’t entirely thrilled that time kept passing and that Shireen was now twenty-three and a young man was coming to seek his blessing in marrying his oldest daughter.  It seemed like only yesterday that Cassana was born and Shireen wanted so badly to hold her, but could only do so if she was sitting down since Shireen herself was so young.  When Ned came along, Shireen was older and she held him so much that it took forever to get him to where he didn’t constantly cry to be held.

Stannis wanted Shireen to be the wife and mother she wanted to be, and there was no one he wanted more for a good son if he had to have one, than Second.  Second was almost one month to the day older than Shireen and they’d known each other all their lives.  It was Second who talked Shireen into waiting until just before university to have her skin grafting surgeries.  She finished her A-levels a year before him due to her private tutoring and took a year before starting university to both have the three surgeries required and to heal.  Second got Stannis’ undying respect when he learned he told his daughter that he wouldn’t love her any less if she decided not to have the surgery or any more if she did. That Second was more worried about something going wrong than Shireen’s face being more like other girls . . . well, Stannis had always had an affection for Second, but that sent it up to incredible heights. 

It was Second who came to the hospital and sat with Shireen for hours after school when she did have her surgeries, eclipsing the time spent there by both his father and mother, which took effort.  Shireen and Second were a couple from about sixteen on and they had been respectfully discrete about the start of their sex life if only out of courtesy for his sensibilities.  To this day, he couldn’t tell you when that started and he also know no one, including Sansa, would tell him.  Stannis wouldn’t be surprised to learn that she didn’t actually know when that transition began.  They just assumed it had.    

Stannis wasn’t sure if doing something so ancient as asking for his blessing before proposing was Second’s idea or Shireen’s.  Sansa had told him that Shireen didn’t know Second was planning to propose, although Stannis doubted that was entirely true.  More to the point, Stannis wondered how long she had been waiting for him to get on with it. 

Second sat down in a chair on the opposite side of his mahogany desk.  “What brings you here this evening?” Stannis asked.  From the grin on Second’s face, he could see that he wasn’t fooling him in the least about not knowing his intent.

“I’d like to know how you would feel about going from godfather to good-father?” Second asked in an obviously rehearsed line.  Looking at him, both serious and hopeful, it was disconcerting how much he looked like Davos with his light brown curly hair and hooded eyes. 

Stannis meant to play with him a little.  “Does what I think really matter?”

Second gave it some thought before he answered.  “Yes and no.  Yes, I’d like to have your blessing and Shireen would be devastated if it were otherwise.  But no . . . I’d ask her anyway and I’d keep on asking her if I thought the only reason she was saying no was because you disapproved.” 

It was a good answer.  Stannis hadn’t considered asking Ned Stark for his approval because he was fairly certain the best he would have received at the time was Ned’s acquiescence to the inevitable.  To everyone’s astonishment, Sansa and Stannis considered themselves in a relationship from the first date . . . or Sansa did and he was more than willing to accept her view on the subject.  Stannis meant to propose to her on Halloween one year to the day that they had met.  Instead, his initial proposal amounted to blurting out a rather unromantic, “We might as well,” when she caught the bouquet at the wedding of Jeyne Poole and Edric Dayne.  While dancing with her at the reception, Stannis tried to recover with something equally lacking in eloquence when he asked her if she would _consider_ marrying him.  It was the way she smiled and rolled her eyes that told him just how much she indulged his lack of romantic acumen.  Her response was to tell him that she had no problem _considering_ it, but she wouldn’t actually do it until he managed to look her in the eye and tell her he loved her.  Sansa had cried and hugged him tight on the dance floor after he looked at her incredulously and growled, “You know perfectly well that I love you.  I started loving you the moment you had me put my arm around you to take a picture!”  They were married three months later and after fourteen years and two more children, he was still hopelessly in love and utterly fascinated with her.   

“You’re both working at Baratheon Enterprises and it’s no secret that, as a Baratheon, even if she takes a part-time role down the line,” Stannis couldn’t bring himself to add _to have children_ , “she will inherit enough stock to have more corporate power.  Have you really thought about that?”  This was the only real reservation he had about their marriage.  Both Davos and he considered encouraging Second to work in marketing for another firm.  It was Shireen who insisted that BE didn’t want to lose him to another firm and she was correct.  He had his father’s touch and was a valuable asset now that Davos had been promoted to COO. 

Second smirked, “Shireen’s been smarter than me from the day she was born and I’ve been okay with it from day one because she’s never rubbed my or anyone else’s noses in just how smart she is.  We don’t compete.  We’re a team.  And you know today what you knew the day you and Dad hired me . . . I’ll do the best job I  can, but she comes first and always will.”

No father could argue with a boy . . . no . . . a man who would put his daughter first, especially when he knew the man meant it.  “You have my blessing,” Stannis affirmed, realizing with horror that he might actually tear up.  He took a deep breath and looked away to blink a few times in hopes of staving it off.  It seemed to work.    

Second thanked him and then added, “There’s something I need help with, though.  Shireen has talked for years about the way you and Auntie San met in Mr. Renly’s study at a costume party.  I’ve asked him and . . . well . . . my plan is for her to go to his party this year thinking I have to work late.  The trouble is Shireen won’t go as Cinderella, but it doesn’t matter what she wears.  I want her to find The Phantom in the study.  The costume shops don’t carry that costume anymore and I need to know what you wore so I can put the same thing together.  I sort of doubt you went to a costume shop.” 

Feeling heat creep into his cheeks and knowing Second did miss it, Stannis needed a second to recover from learning that Shireen knew anything at all about that costume party, much less that it had become some romantic icon.  They certainly had never talked about it, so she had to have heard about it from Sansa.  The age range for Renly’s party had increased to including fifty-somethings and there was no longer a restriction on married people attending; however, they had never been back.  Every year since then, they’d had at least one child to take out trick or treating. 

Stannis put his forefinger over the small print-reader on the file-sized lower desk drawer and allowed it to scan his print and pop the drawer open.  Inside that drawer was a group of items, along with a few blocks of cedar, that had been stored there for over fourteen years . . . a folded cape, ruffled shirt, and vest along with a hat and the white mask.  He started to pull the items out of the drawer to show Second and stopped.  “Your mother was the one who helped me put the outfit together.  All I did was find the mask and modify it.  Regular Phantom masks only covered one side of the upper half of the face.  My mask covered all of the upper half and exposed the mouth and jaw.  I could scan it and duplicate it on the 3D printer, and I will if you really want me to, but . . . Second, that’s Auntie San’s and my story.  As you noted, Shireen won’t go as Cinderella.”  It broke Stannis’ heart knowing the reason was because she would never dress as someone meant to be a beautiful princess.  “I’m not saying don’t let her discover you in Renly’s office.  I’m suggesting you find your own costume that compliments hers or is someone . . . something . . . that is your own private tale for years to come until you learn that Shireen has told your daughter someday.”

Second thought about it and shrugged, following it with a grin.  “Uncle First . . . does Dad know what a closet romantic you are?”

“He spent years telling me I’m repressed.”  Stannis felt another smirk coming on, “I probably am repressed romantic come to think of it.”    

“Did you ever thank Dad for making that bet?” Second asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yes.”  Actually, Stannis thanked Davos for forcing him to live up to the terms of the bet on the day of his wedding when Davos stood up with him as best man.  He remembered Ned walking Sansa down the aisle of the sept towards him.  Sansa wore a white embroidered off-the-shoulder gown that slimmed down her body before moving out into a flowing skirt.  Her thick, copper hair was in an impossibly intricate up-do that must have taken hours to style.  After getting a lump in his throat at the thought that this incredibly stunning beauty was about to marry him, Stannis remembered thinking how he was going to enjoy taking her hair down just as soon as he could get her to leave the reception for the hotel they would be in that first night before leaving for their honeymoon the next day.  He did not want to be thinking about such things going through Second’s mind while he walked Shireen down the aisle. 

“I’d better go before Shireen gets back from treating Cassie to her first spa day or I’ll get caught with the mask.”  Both stood and Second put out his hand to shake.  Stannis shook it, wishing he knew how to do something like give him one of those embraces that ended with a clapping on the back that Davos always did.    

Stannis followed him out, joined by Sansa who smiled at gave Second a hug just before he left.  “Marya said he has something in mind using a Phantom costume for his proposal,” Sansa said as they stood together in the doorway, watching as Second get in his maglev pod and pull away. 

Closing the door, Stannis put an arm around her and walked with her into their great room.  “How are you handling all this?” Sansa asked as they reclined on the sofa and curled up together in a way they wouldn’t if any of their children were home. 

“You do realize Shireen hasn’t said yes yet,” Stannis half-heartedly protested, kissing the top of her head. 

“Since she’s had a subscription to Brides on her comm for almost a year, I’d say yes was a given,” Sansa rejoined, running her fingers lazily across his chest. 

Shrugging, Stannis stated the obvious.  “We’ve seen this coming for years.  I’ve had a long time to get used to it.”  Thirteen-year-old Cassana was his unpredictable child.  She was a raven-haired copy of her mother, but she was far less shy than either of her parents.  Cassana would be the heartbreaker and he couldn’t even begin to imagine what her future husband would be like if she decided to have a husband. 

Sansa broke into his thought.  “Did you give Stan your mask?” 

Stannis began to run is fingers through her hair, shorter now, but still thick and that luxurious burnt copper red.  “No.  I suggested that Ella and Erik are us, not them.  They should have one of their own . . . one Shireen can tell their daughter someday and have his future good-son embarrass him by bringing up.” 

“Don’t expect me to apologize for telling our daughters how we met,” Sansa insisted, cuddling closer to him despite the firmness of her words.  “Shireen has had me tell that story to her so many times over the last fifteen years, I couldn’t begin to count.  I think it’s rather sweet that Stan wants to give her their own version of it for a proposal.  You’re very wise for suggesting another costume, though.  It should be something different . . . something theirs.” 

After all this time, Stannis felt a pang of regret that he hadn’t made more of an effort to give Sansa the well-orchestrated proposal he had originally intended.  “You know, I intended to propose to you on Halloween.  It wasn’t going to be in Renly’s study or in costume.  I was going to ask the Seaworths to keep Shireen for the night after we took her trick or treating and then take you on a midnight cruise on Blackwater Bay and propose there.” 

“Your proposal was perfect,” she lied . . . or rather, she rewrote history to suit the way she wanted to remember it.  Sansa had a way of making all of his romantic blunders sound like extremely romantic gestures instead of epic fails.  Undoubtedly, Sansa made him out to be a big romantic hero to Shireen and Cassie.  He suspected both knew better.  However, thinking about it, Sansa always did make his feeble attempts at romantic gestures into something memorable. 

Sansa’s continued exploration of his chest with her fingertips began to gain more of his attention.  “Second said that Shireen and Casanna are at the spa.  Where’s Ned?” 

Her voice took on a sultry tone.  “At tee-ball practice and then going to a holo with Jeyne, Edric, and Valon.  They shouldn’t bring him home for another two hours.  Shireen is taking Cassie shopping after they have their manicures and pedicures.  We won’t see them for a few hours either.” 

Of course, at hearing they had possible two hours in the house by themselves in the late afternoon, Sansa expected him to lead her to their bedroom.  It was an excellent idea, yet he had something else in mind.  “I’ve got a few things I need to wrap up for work first.  Would you bring me a glass of lemon water into my study?”

Sansa got up from the sofa and reached for his hand to pull him up.  “Of course.”  He had to hand it to her.  She didn’t let her disappointment show.      

As soon as he was on his feet, Stannis made his way back to his study.  Putting his forefinger on the printer-reader, he quickly pulled out the mask, cape, and hat.  He just barely got them all on and all the lights turned off before Sansa opened the study door.  There was a blue glow to the room from the holo-screen's standby mode that gave off enough light to see while still being dark. 

He expected a giggle or outright laughter when he took the glass from Sansa and set it on the plant stand just inside the door and closed the door behind her.  Instead, he got a head turned to one side to reveal a neck ready to be kissed when he stood behind her.  Stannis took full advantage of the area he gratefully knew from years of experience could still cause her to moan and tremble when properly attended to.  His hands unbuttoned the buttons of her blouse and she leaned against him.  He couldn’t believe his luck when he realized she was wearing a front-clasp bra. 

The hour they spent together in that darkened study was filled with some of the most passionate sex they’d ever had, and Stannis felt that was a tall order to live up to.  If he’d have known how much Sansa wanted him to take her on his desk as the Phantom, he’d have done it years ago . . . and often.   Somehow, being on the clock made it even more erotic, starting with the intense foreplay and sex on his desk, followed by kissing and cuddling with her on his lap in his chair.  The groaning realization that they had to stop and return his desk back to some semblance of order and re-stow the Phantom costume was softened by also realizing they did had just enough time for a shared shower before their children began to arrive back home.   

They were innocently working in the kitchen together preparing dinner, Sansa sending vegetables through the food processor while Stannis put the chicken she prepared on the oven’s rotisserie spit, when Shireen and Casanna arrived back from their sister’s day out.  They showed off their manicured nails and painted toenails, excitedly telling about their massages and facials and how Sansa needed to go with them next time.  Stannis wasn’t sure how he felt about a thirteen-year-old girl having all that done, but he left such things to his wife’s expert judgment.  Stannis appreciated how much time Shireen spent with her siblings, despite being an adult now and on her own. 

Ned arrived only a few minutes after his sisters.  Stannis recognized his ten-year-old son was made in his image, yet thankfully had his mother’s temperament and easy-going manner.  He, too, was buzzing with tales of his day. 

Stannis looked at his family and remembered something Robert said to him a few years ago when the Starks and Baratheon’s met at their house for Thanksgiving.  “You’re still the most rigid, boring son of a bitch I know, Stannis,” Robert pronounced, clapping him once on the back just before everyone sat down to eat, “But you’re also the luckiest son of a bitch I know.” 

He hadn’t given Robert a reply . . . the truth needed no argument or confirmation. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much to everyone who read this little crackfic and most especially to those who commented!


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